ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


ifi 


111- 


^/V/  gazed  into  the  moonlit  garden. " 


ENGAGED    GIRL 
SKETCHES 


EMILY  CALVIN  BLAKE 


CHICAGO 
FORBES  &  COMPANY 

1910 


COPYRIGHT,   1909,   1910,    BY 
THE  CURTIS  PUBLISHING  Co. 


COPYRIGHT,     1910,     BY 
FORBES  AND  COMPANY 


CONTENTS 


An  Obscure  Situation 
The  Adorers  of  Anne 
In  the  Face  of  Reality 
A  Dreamer  of  Dreams 
When  All  is  Fair      . 
Moonlight  and  Roses 
Qualities  of  Love 


PAGE 

ii 
•      29 


75 
99 

121 
139 


AN  OBSCURE  SITUATION 


ENGAGED  GIRL   SKETCHES 

AN  OBSCURE  SITUATION 

**  IT^UGENE  is  downstairs,  as  you  sus- 

•  ^  pect,  Cecilia,"  observed  Cecilia's 
younger  sister;  "but  then  he  always  is." 

"  Oh,  not  quite,"  laughed  Cecilia,  ar- 
ranging her  collar;  "  there,  do  I  look  all 
right,  Mary?  " 

"  You  '11  do,"  returned  Mary  with  the 
insouciance  of  the  younger  sister.  She 
paused  for  a  moment.  "  Really,  I  wish 
you  'd  tell  me  when  the  wedding  is  to  be. 
I  want  to  begin  at  Mother  to  lower  my 
dresses." 

Cecilia    only    smiled    again    and    went 

downstairs      to      the      big      living-room. 

Eugene  Dysart,  who  rose  to  meet  her,  took 

her   extended   hand   and   looked   into   her 

ii 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


eyes  for  a  moment  before  speaking. 
When  he  did  speak  his  voice  was  as  warm 
as  his  glance. 

"  Your  dress  is  very  pretty,  Cecilia," 
he  said;  "I  like  that  white  lace  in  the 
neck." 

"  Well,  I  am  very  glad,"  the  girl  re- 
turned, laughing,  but  not  meeting  his 
ardent  eyes.  "  I  did  n't  put  on  my  hat. 
I  did  n't  know  the  hour." 

He  drew  out  his  watch.  "  It 's  just 
eight,"  he  said;  "  I  think  we  'd  better  start 
so  we  can  be  in  good  time." 

A  dozen  young  people  had  gathered  at 
the  home  to  which  Cecilia  and  Dysart 
were  going,  and  when  the  tardy  couple  ap- 
peared a  sudden  cessation  of  voices  told 
Cecilia  that  she  and  Dysart  had  been  ob- 
jects of  discussion.  However,  the  gayety 
was  soon  resumed,  but  at  the  innuendoes 
directed  good-naturedly  toward  her  Ceci- 
lia's cheeks  flushed  until  toward  the  end 
12 


AN  OBSCURE  SITUATION 


of    the    evening    a    tight,    uncomfortable 
feeling  bound  her. 

Either  Dysart  bore  the  laughing  allu- 
sions with  equanimity  or  he  attached  no 
personal  meaning  to  them.  Cecilia  won- 
dered which  was  the  correct  conclusion 
and  blushed  vividly  at  her  own  indelicacy 
for  at  once  understanding.  But  later, 
when  they  were  on  their  way  home, 
Dysart  made  an  observation  which  showed 
that  he  had  understood  the  badinage :  — 
"  Miss  King  seemed  in  rather  a  teasing 
mood  tonight.  You  don't  mind,  do  you, 
Cecilia?  "  he  said. 

Under  cover  of  the  dark  the  girl's  lips 
trembled,  for  she  had  cared  for  the  first 
time,  but  she  answered  lightly  that  she 
had  not  noticed  anything  different  from 
the  usual.  Then,  as  she  felt  his  helping 
hand,  she  tried  to  fling  off  her  depressed 
mood.  What  mattered  anything?  And 
why  should  others  busy  themselves  with 
13 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


her  affairs?  Did  they  owe  the  world  the 
announcement  that  they  loved  each  other? 
And,  too,  even  if  he  should  actually  ask 
her  to  be  his  wife,  she  would  wish  to  keep 
the  beautiful  knowledge  to  herself  and 
have  no  disturbing  word  spoken.  She  dis- 
missed an  obstrusive  thought  and  hugged 
again  her  repeated  mental  assertion  that 
their  understanding  love  required  no  for- 
mal ratification;  that  words  were  super- 
fluous when  eloquent  eyes  could  speak. 
So  when  she  parted  from  him  at  her  door 
her  face  was  radiant,  and  he,  pressing  her 
hand,  gazed  at  her  with  an  expression  of 
yearning  tenderness,  though  he  spoke  no 
word. 

During  the  first  months  that  she  knew 
Dysart  Cecilia's  old  friends  tacitly  left  a 
free  field  for  the  newcomer,  and  at  first, 
ignorant  of  the  questioning  eyes  upon  her, 
Cecilia  went  happily  on  her  way.  But  as 
time  passed  she  perforce  became  aware  of 
the  curious  glances,  and  despite  her  in- 


AN  OBSCURE  SITUATION 


tense  loyalty  she  wondered  if  Dysart 
guessed  that  she  was  subjected  to  annoy- 
ances that  hurt  her  in  proportion  as  she 
grew  more  sensitive.  She  watched  him  as 
he  went  imperturbably  on,  apparently  in- 
different or  ignorant  that  she  was  suffer- 
ing. But  her  trust  in  him  she  never  lost, 
and  while  gradually  his  consistent  silence 
became  harder  to  bear  she  still  told  herself 
that  the  time  of  unspoken  understanding 
was  truly  the  most  ideal  of  all  periods. 

One  day  she  met  an  old  friend,  Nicholas 
Henderson,  whom  she  had  known  since 
her  childhood.  He  had  settled  in  Ari- 
zona and  Cecilia  had  not  heard  of  his 
presence  in  her  city.  As  he  paused  to 
speak  with  her  his  fine  face  expressed  his 
pleasure  at  the  meeting. 

"Why,  Miss  Rogers!"  he  cried;  "or 
may  it  still  be  '  Cecilia,'  since  I  knew  you 
when  you  were  a  toddler?  " 

"  '  Cecilia,'  of  course,"  she  replied. 
"  But  when  did  you  return?  " 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


"  A  month  ago.  I  did  n't  look  you  up 
—  well,  because  I  have  been  very  busy  — " 
he  smiled  his  lame  explanation  at  her,  and 
Cecilia  spoke  hurriedly. 

"  Come  to  see  us,  almost  any  evening, 
won't  you?  " 

He  nodded  and  they  parted;  but  he  took 
advantage  of  her  invitation  within  a  few 
days.  When  his  call  was  repeated  many 
times  Cecilia  was  treated  to  laughing  jests 
from  members  of  her  family.  Mary  told 
her  she  had  not  expected  such  disloyalty. 

"  Judging  from  the  brand  of  my  own 
loyalty  I  thought  perhaps  yours  was  as 
pure,"  Mary  taunted. 

Cecilia  was  for  the  first  time  deeply 
annoyed  at  her  sister.  "  Will  you  please 
explain  just  what  you  mean?"  she  asked 
in  a  sharp  tone. 

Mrs.   Rogers  was  present.     She  spoke 

gently.     "  Cecilia,"    she    said,    "  is  n't    it 

natural  that  we  should  be  interested  in  you 

and  your  affairs?     I  shall  be  very  glad  to 

16 


AN  OBSCURE  SITUATION 


hear  any  confidence  that  you  may  want  to 
give." 

"  But  I  have  none  to  give,"  protested 
Cecilia,  with  a  sudden,  fierce  rebellion  ris- 
ing within  her. 

"  Then  I  don't  understand  at  all,"  went 
on  Mrs.  Rogers.  "  When  I  was  young 

5> 

"  Oh,  please,  Mother  —  I  Vc  heard  so 
many  of  your  reminiscences,"  Cecilia  be- 
gan, then  shrank  at  the  surprised  pain  in 
her  mother's  face.  "  I  'm  sorry,"  she 
said,  quickly  repentant.  "  But  I  cannot 
understand  people's  curiosity." 

"  I  do  not  mean  to  be  inquisitive,  dear," 
said  Mrs.  Rogers,  and  her  voice  trembled, 
while  Mary  looked  indignantly  at  her 
sister,  "  but  Eugene  has  been  coming  here 
for  more  than  a  year,  and  you  have  ac- 
cepted his  attentions  exclusively.  So  many 
friends  have  asked  me  if  there  is  an  en- 
gagement, and  I  have  been  sorry  to  say 
'A  that  you  have  told  me  nothing." 

.7 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


"  Why  should  they  ask?  "  cried  Cecilia 
stormily.  "  Can't  Eugene  be  simply  a 
friend?  Am  I  never  to  have  any  rest 
from  questioning?" 

But  Mrs.  Rogers  lapsed  into  a  hurt 
silence,  and  Cecilia,  with  no  apology,  left 
the  room  to  seek  solitude  upstairs.  She 
was  filled  with  compunction  at  having  so 
spoken  to  her  mother,  and  with  a  strange 
terror  at  her  heart  she  realized  that  a  feel- 
ing of  bitterness  toward  Dysart  was  creep- 
ing upon  her:  a  feeling  that  he  had 
subjected  her  to  unwarranted  injustice 
by  placing  her  where  she  could  not  answer 
even  her  mother's  loving  questions.  But 
she  could  find  no  solution  for  her  per- 
plexity, and  her  brow  was  still  furrowed 
with  thought  when  in  the  evening  she 
greeted  Henderson. 

Cecilia  yielded  herself  to  the  charm  of 
his  personality,  for  he  was  clever  and  in- 
teresting. She  remembered  that  years  be- 
fore as  a  very  young  girl  she  had  greatly 
18 


AN  OBSCURE  SITUATION 


admired  him.  Then  he  had  gone  away 
and  Dysart  had  shortly  filled  her  horizon. 
Now  she  was  beginning  to  revel  in  Hender- 
son's friendship  and  to  feel  a  certain  relief 
that  she  might  indulge  in  candor  of  both 
look  and  language.  However  sweet  she 
had  thought  the  unspoken  understanding 
between  herself  and  Dysart,  this  open 
friendship  seemed  clear  and  beautiful  in  its 
sincerity. 

But  she  was  not  prepared  for  Hender- 
son's sudden  change  of  laughing  expression 
to  one  of  deep  seriousness.  In  a  moment, 
it  seemed  he  had  spoken  words  that  placed 
them  upon  a  different  footing. 

"  Cecilia,"  he  said,  "  I  love  you,  and  I 
want  you  to  marry  me  if  you  can."  He 
hastened  on,  determined  not  to  notice  the 
pallor  that  overspread  her  face  at  his 
words.  "  I  should  not  have  spoken  had 
I  known  you  were  actually  promised  to  an- 
other; yet,  not  knowing  so,  I  take  my 
chance ;  my  love  for  you  has  steadily  grown 
19 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


since   first   I   knew   you   as   a   little   girl." 

Cecilia  felt  a  strange  longing,  a  longing 
that  she  might  give  to  him  that  for  which 
he  so  ardently  pleaded,  and  the  pitying 
tears  rose  to  her  eyes. 

"  I  am  very  sorry,"  she  faltered  then, 
meeting  his  open  gaze.  "  You  cannot 
know  how  much  I  wish  my  answer  might 
be  as  you  desire." 

He  stood  up  then,  and  coming  close  to 
her  gently  took  her  hand  in  his.  "  I 
would  n't  cause  you  one  pang  if  I  could 
prevent  it,"  he  said  gravely;  "  and  I  shall 
not  let  this  defeat  overwhelm  me.  You 
must  believe  that."  He  smiled  at  her,  but 
she  turned  her  head  away,  seeing  beneath 
the  smile  that  which  he  thought  to  hide: 
"  Cecilia,  I  wish  you  all  happiness  in  the 
world." 

Long  after  he  had  gone  and  while  she 
lay  sleepless  in  bed  she  found  herself  wish- 
ing with  all  her  strength  that  she  were 
fickle ;  that  she  could  bestow  upon  Hender- 
20 


AN  OBSCURE  SITUATION 


son  her  love.  For  did  the  other  give  her 
the  highest,  truest  love  when  he  had  not 
asked  her  to  marry  him? 

"  He  knows  —  he  knows  — "  she 
sobbed,  letting  down  for  the  first  time  all 
her  carefully-wrought  barriers.  "  He 
must  know  what  humiliations  I  have  to 
bear;  he  is  unfair,  unkind."  Then  sud- 
denly she  believed  she  knew  the  truth  and 
she  gasped.  "  Why,  he  does  not  love  me 
—  I  have  mistaken  his  attentions,"  she 
whispered  to  the  dark.  "  He  wants  only 
my  companionship  that  others  may  not 
trespass;  and  then  if  ever  he  gets  tired  he 
has  said  nothing  to  incriminate  himself!  " 

Her  eyes  burning  with  tears  and  her 
whole  being  wrought  to  a  high  tension  she 
slipped  from  the  bed  and  flung  herself  into 
a  chair.  It  seemed  that  for  hours  she  re- 
mained crouched  in  unhappy  meditation 
before  her  conclusion  was  reached.  As, 
she  thought  scornfully,  she  could  not  well 
ask  Dysart  his  intentions,  she  would  release 
21 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


him.  Then  again  the  satire  of  her  posi- 
tion touched  her:  she  could  not  give  up 
that  which  did  not  belong  to  her.  So,  still 
tossing  and  doubting,  she  returned  to  bed 
only  to  lie  awake  till  morning  dawned. 

In  the  evening  when  Dysart  appeared 
Cecilia  greeted  him  with  a  look  that  strove 
to  be  unconscious.  But  whatever  her 
glance  implied  the  young  man  guessed 
nothing.  He  looked  playfully  at  her. 

"  Well,  Henderson  's  not  here  tonight," 
he  said.  "  I  Ve  been  meeting  him  here  a 
great  deal  lately." 

"  No,"  she  replied  in  a  flat  voice. 
"  He  telephoned  Father  that  he  was  re- 
turning to  Arizona." 

"  That  was  a  sudden  decision,  was  n't 
it?"  he  asked.  Then  looking  into  her 
face  he  spoke  quickly.  "  Why,  Cecilia, 
did  he  —  he  did  n't  dare  — " 


"Didn't  dare? 
a  mirthless  laugh. 


Cecilia  repeated  with 
'Did  n't  dare  what?" 


22 


AN  OBSCURE  SITUATION 


"  To  make  love  to  you !  "  Dysart's 
face  was  white  now. 

At  his  words  there  rose  before  her  a 
picture  of  her  mother's  eyes  swimming  in 
hurt  tears ;  there  rushed  upon  her  the  mem- 
ory of  all  she  had  lately  endured.  And 
now  he  asked  her  whether  another  man 
had  dared  to  profess  frankly  that  he  loved 
her  —  and  dared  to  ask  her  in  a  straight- 
forward way  to  be  his  wife.  All  her 
natural  and  lovely  sweetness  seemed  to 
leave  and  to  yield  to  a  host  of  strange 
thoughts  from  which  even  in  that  fierce  mo- 
ment she  shrank. 

"  Why  should  n't  he  make  love  to  me?  " 
she  asked,  the  words  seeming  inane  in  her 
ears  with  the  many  emotions  hammering 
within  her. 

"  Why,  did  n't  he  guess  —  could  n't  he 
see — "  he  stammered,  then  suddenly 
grew  silent  at  the  passion  in  the  girl's  eyes. 

"  Guess  —  guess,"  she  cried,  "  guess  at 
23 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


what?  Why,  he  took  his  chances,"  she 
went  on,  unheeding  the  pain  in  his  face. 
"  He  asked  me  to  marry  him,  knowing  that 
if  I  promised  he  would  probably  be  ir- 
revocably bound !  " 

He  was  at  her  side  now,  a  new,  strange 
purpose,  a  new  consciousness  lighting  his 
face. 

But  Cecilia  turned  from  him  when  he 
would  have  touched  her  hands.  "  Don't," 
she  said,  more  calmly.  "  I  ought  to  love 
you.  They  say  that  love  is  sanctified  and 
strengthened  by  what  we  bear  for  its  ob- 
ject; well,  I  Ve  borne  enough  and  I  Ve 
done  enough.  I  Ve  hurt  my  mother  and 
estranged  my  father;  I  Ve  lost  friends  be- 
cause I  resented  their  questioning — " 

"  But  they  had  no  right  to  question  — " 
he  began. 

"  Oh,  I  Ve  told  myself  that  a  hundred 
times,"  she  said.  "  But  they  do,  neverthe- 
less, and  it 's  hard  on  the  girl  — " 

"  Cecilia,"  he  cried  then,  "  I  thought  to 
24 


AN  OBSCURE  SITUATION 


spare  you,  dear,  believe  me.  But  first  let 
me  tell  you  that  I  love  you  with  all  my 
heart,  but  that  I  thought  it  right  not  to 
bind  you  by  any  promises.  My  circum- 
stances are  not  good;  I  Ve  been  waiting 
till  they  brightened  before  speaking  to 
you;  and  if  they  did  not  brighten  —  why, 
then  you  were  free." 

"Circumstances!"  she  cried  passion- 
ately. "  I  care  nothing  for  them;  why,  I 
would  wait  for  all  time  for  you  if  I  knew 
—  if  I  knew—" 

In  overwhelming  tenderness  and  deep 
remorse  he  put  his  arms  about  her,  draw- 
ing her  close  to  him,  while  utterly  spent 
and  sobbing  she  yielded  to  him.  "  I  did 
not  understand,  Sweetheart,"  he  cried;  "  I 
was  blind.  I  should  have  known  that  we 
are  not  alone  in  the  world.  I  don't  ask 
you  to  care  for  me  now,  Cecilia.  How 
can  I,  when  through  blindness  I  have 
caused  you  so  much  unhappiness?  But  — 
but  —  if  you  can  trust  me  I'll  make  up 
25 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


to  you  in  years  to  come,  dear  —  I  '11  make 
up  to  you  — " 

Cecilia  withdrew  herself  from  his  arms. 
She  did  not  speak,  while  Dysart  gazed  at 
her  with  pleading  eyes. 

'  Won't  you  give  me  a  chance,  Cecilia?  " 
he  begged  then,  his  voice  unsteady  with 
emotion.  "  Won't  you  give  me  a  chance 
to  prove  to  you  the  depth  of  my  love?" 

Then  suddenly  like  the  breaking  of  an 
ice-bound  brook,  the  girl  felt  the  sun  of  her 
real  nature  warming  and  uplifting  her. 
She  put  out  her  hands  to  him  while  a 
quick,  lovely  smile  touched  her  lips : 

"  Can  you  love  me,  Eugene,  after  I  have 
almost  stolen  your  prerogative? "  she 
asked. 

"Stolen  my  prerogative?"  he  cried, 
his  voice  ringing.  "  You  have  stolen 
nothing  but  all  my  hopes  and  aspirations, 
my  heart  and  soul ;  they  belong  to  you, 
Cecilia."  He  paused  for  a  moment,  then 
his  voice  fell  to  a  whisper :  "  Since  my 
26 


AN  OBSCURE  SITUATION 


unthinking  silence  imposed  so  much  sorrow 
upon  you  I  wonder  if  you  will  come  to 
me  now  —  my  wife!  " 

At  his  words  the  color  rushed  to  her 
face,  and  when  their  lips  met  they  lived 
their  supreme  moment. 


27 


THE  ADORERS  OF  ANNE 


THE  ADORERS  OF  ANNE 


IF  Anne  ever  stopped  to  analyse  her 
regard  for  Kenneth  Roscoe  she  would 
have  reduced  it  to  a  few  words:  that  she 
liked  him  very  much;  in  fact,  she  believed 
she  loved  him  sufficiently  to  marry  him  at 
some  very  remote  day. 

She  told  him  so  one  evening  when  at 
last  after  a  week's  endeavor,  he  found  her 
for  a  moment  alone.  He  rallied  her  upon 
her  solitude  as  he  gazed  quizzically  about 
the  room. 

"Not  alone,  Anne?" 

"Yes,  quite  alone,"  she  said;  "strange 
to  say,  I  Ve  not  had  a  caller  tonight." 

"  Of  course,  I  don't  count,"  he  replied 

quietly;  then  he  looked  reflectively  at  her 

as  she  reclined  gracefully  in  her  big  chair. 

Her  face  was  pale,  but  Roscoe  knew  that 

29 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


the  lovely  color  would  come  and  go  as  she 
talked  and  laughed;  the  alluring  expres- 
sion in  her  eyes,  the  slender  whiteness  of 
her  throat,  her  whole  sweet  personality  en- 
thralled him.  "  How  do  you  keep  up  the 
pace,  Anne?  "  he  asked  as  she  turned  her 
eyes  from  his  speaking  ones. 

"Why,  I  love  it,"  she  said;  "I  love 
admiration  and  constant  attention.  Now, 
another  girl  would  n't  confess  that,  Ken- 
neth, and  probably  I  would  n't  to  another 
man.  But,  really,  you  don't  count." 

She  looked  affectionately  at  him,  and 
repeated  her  assertion:  "No,  you  don't 
count  in  that  way;  I'm  always  my  true 
self  with  you." 

"  But  why,  then,  won't  you  marry  me, 
Anne?" 

"  Because  I  'm  not  at  all  sure  that  I  care 
for  you  enough."  She  leaned  forward 
and  gazed  half-questioningly  at  him. 

"  And  I  could  n't  be  content  with  your 
attentions  alone.  It  is  exhilarating  to 
30 


THE  ADORERS  OF  ANNE 


think  there  are  half  a  dozen  men  waiting 
to  escort  me  to  the  theater,  or  dance  at- 
tendance in  some  way.  Have  I  fallen  out 
in  your  esteem,  Kenneth?  "  she  asked  anx- 
iously. 

"  You  know  better,"  he  answered. 
"  Our  estimates  are  rather  different,  that 's 
all,  dear.  I  would  be  satisfied  with  you 
alone;  that  would  be  happiness  and  ex- 
hilaration enough  for  me." 

The  girl  rose  impetuously  from  her 
chair.  "  I  must  have  pulsing  life,"  she 
cried;  "that  alone  is  the  reality.  I've 
seen  other  girls  give  it  all  up  —  the  lights, 
the  flowers,  the  admiration,  and  settle 
down  to  a  humdrum  existence.  Oh,  it 
is  n't  worth  it." 

Roscoe  did  not  answer,  but  gazed 
steadily  at  her,  till  she  spoke  hurriedly. 

"  Don't  look  at  me  in  that  way,  Ken- 
neth." She  paused.  "  I  wish  you  would 
take  my  advice,"  she  continued  in  a  mo- 
ment; "  go  and  find  some  girl  who  would 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


be  satisfied  to  amble  through  life  —  who 
wants  no  thrills  and  excitement." 

u  Well,  perhaps  I  may  take  your  reiter- 
ated advice  some  day,"  he  laughed  pleas- 
antly at  her,  but  she,  with  a  consciousness 
of  her  own  power,  believed  that  he  would 
never  seek  another. 

It  was  this  same  power  she  liked  to  feel 
she  exerted  over  many  of  the  men  who 
waited  upon  her.  And  she  loved  it  all, 
the  exchange  of  ardent  glances,  the  faint 
pressure  of  hands  and  the  homage  that 
daily  was  offered  at  her  shrine. 

"  There  's  time  enough  to  settle  down," 
she  told  her  indulgent  aunt  with  whom  she 
lived.  "  And  really  I  don't  believe  that 
I  ever  want  to  see  in  one  man  the  whole 
world." 

And  so  she  went  merrily  on  her  capri- 
cious way,  the  object  of  many  flattering 
attentions,  and  known  as  the  popular  girl 
of  her  set,  a  title  that  pleased  her  greatly. 

She  attended  a  dancing  party  one  night 
32 


THE  ADORERS  OF  ANNE 


with  Kenneth  Roscoe.  As  she  left  him 
at  the  door  of  the  dressing-room  she  looked 
up  for  one  fleeting  second  into  his  eyes. 

"  I  '11  see  you  intermittently  during  the 
evening,  I  suppose?  "  she  laughed. 

"  You  '11  see  me  all  the  evening,"  he  re- 
turned firmly. 

When  next  he  beheld  her  she  had 
emerged  from  her  rather  somber  cloak 
and  stood  revealed  in  the  beauty  of  rose 
satin.  Her  hair  was  piled  high  in  a  soft, 
luxuriant  coil  and  her  eyes  sought  his  in 
teasing  willfulness. 

She  danced  with  him  once  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  evening,  then  before  he  could 
make  his  way  to  her  again  her  program 
had  been  almost  filled  by  a  number  of  her 
private  followers. 

"  Yet  I  managed  to  save  one  more  for 
you,"  she  said,  smiling  at  him  as,  for  a 
moment,  he  confronted  her.  "  Are  n't 
you  glad?  " 

His  mood,  rather  a  serious  one  now, 
33 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


sat  oddly  upon  him  at  the  time  and  place, 
and  Anne,  with  an  annoyed  feeling  at  his 
unwavering  regard,  leaned  nearer  to  him. 

;'  Try  and  look  a  little  more  cheerful, 
Kenneth,"  she  cried  with  whimsical  im- 
patience. "  There  is  no  immediate  dan- 
ger that  I  shall  elope  with  some  one  else, 
you  know." 

Then  she  drifted  away,  and  the  man 
saw  her  first  in  the  arms  of  one  cavalier 
and  then  another,  the  brilliant  smiles  of 
her  eyes  and  lips  never  abating;  the  gay 
repartee  for  which  she  was  famed  evi- 
dently never  ceasing,  judging  from  the 
amused  glances  of  her  companions. 

Later,  stimulated  by  her  evening  of  ad- 
miration, and  having  danced  herself  into 
a  fever  of  excitement,  she  felt  her  annoy- 
ance returning  at  Roscoe's  unresponsive 
mood  as  they  went  toward  her  home. 

"  Now,"  she  said,  when  he  stood  with 
her  at  the  door,  "  I  know  that  something 
has  been  troubling  you.  Can  you  not 
34 


HE  ADORERS  OF  ANNE 


wrong  me 

said  gently.  "  I  have  tried  to  reach  a 
definite  conclusion,  and  before  telling  you 
I  wished  to  be  sure  that  I  was  right." 

"  Accurate  and  deliberate  as  ever,"  she 
said.  Then,  her  annoyance  slipping  from 
her,  she  smiled  radiantly  at  him.  "  Are 
you  going  to  tell  me  tonight?  If  so, 
please  hurry ;  I  don't  like  to  hold  nocturnal 
conversations." 

"Well,  Anne,  it  is  this:  I  believe  it 
best  that  I  see  you  less  often.  More  and 
more  I  want  you  entirely  for  my  own; 
perhaps  it  is  not  altogether  a  selfish  de- 
sire, for  I  have  confidence  enough  to  be- 
lieve that  I  would  make  you  happy." 

"You  might,"  returned  the  girl;  "but 
soon  your  love  would  descend  to  the  prose 
of  affectionate  regard,  and  now  everything 
is  poetry.  Don't  you  see,  Kenneth?" 

"  I  see  your  point,  yes,"  he  answered. 
35 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


Then:  "  I  seem  to  lend  nothing  to  your 
happiness,  Anne,  nor  even  to  your  enjoy- 
ment. And  as  for  your  need  of  me,  that 
may  be  counted  as  nil.  Don't  you  agree 
with  me  that  since  I  can't  help  longing  for 
your  love  I  'd  better  stay  away?  " 

"  That  must  be  for  you  to  decide,  Ken- 
neth," she  said  softly,  and  with  a  half-re- 
gretful word  she  left  him. 

That  he  did  decide  against  his  frequent 
visits  she  soon  learned,  for  a  week  passed 
and  she  heard  nothing  from  him.  And 
that  she  rather  missed  him  she  reluctantly 
admitted  to  herself,  but  in  the  joy  of  con- 
quests, new  and  old,  she  went  contentedly 
on  her  way. 

"  Why,"  she  asked  her  aunt  one  day  - 
"  Why   can't   a   man   be   satisfied  with   a 
woman's  friendship?     And  why  should  he 
want  to  draw  her  into  a  life  where  sooner 
or  later  everything  becomes  uninteresting; 
where   love   becomes   somnolent,    and   one 
day  is  a  copy  of  another?  " 
36 


THE  ADORERS  OF  ANNE 


Her  aunt,  a  fine  elderly  woman  who  had 
been  Anne's  real  mother  since  the  girl 
could  remember,  looked  for  a  long  moment 
into  the  uplifted,  petulant  eyes. 

"  Spiritless  —  uninteresting?  "  she  re- 
peated, then  her  eyes  misted.  "  Perhaps 
you  remember  my  life,  when  seemingly  it 
consisted  of  makeshifts,  of  strictest  econ- 
omies, and  of  few  spoken  words  that 
showed  my  struggles  were  valued?" 

Anne  spoke  gently.  "  I  remember," 
she  said. 

"  You  could  not  know  then  that  a  cer- 
tain knowledge  kept  me  brave  and  up- 
lifted; nor  look  within  and  sec  my  com' 
pensations.  You  saw  only  the  surface." 

Anne,  remembering  her  aunt's  passion- 
ate grief  when  she  was  left  alone,  was  si- 
lent for  a  space. 

Then:  "I  have  seen  so  many  lives 
after  marriage  apparently  drab-colored 
and  unromantic;  lives  that  seemed  all  sun- 
shine before ;  "  she  said.  "  It  seems  to  me 
37 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


there  might  be  inner  compensations  and 
a  little  outward  sparkle,  too." 

But,  despite  her  light  philosophizing, 
Anne  examined  herself  with  unaccustomed 
sincerity,  and  was  startled  to  find  that  her 
present  unlovely  mood  was  caused  by  a 
longing:  a  longing  for  the  renewal  of 
Roscoe's  companionship,  and  a  deep  re- 
gret that  he  could  not  be  content  with  mere 
friendship. 

But  now  the  winter  was  at  hand  with 
its  promise  of  gayety  at  theater  and  ball- 
room, and  because  of  her  enchanting  love- 
liness and  high  spirits  Anne  was  eagerly 
sought. 

She  went  one  night  to  the  theater  with 
a  man  named  Graham,  who  had  been  at- 
tentive to  her  for  a  year.  He  was  a  man 
of  distinction,  and  she  felt  a  degree  of 
pride  that  he  should  so  constantly  seek  her 
company. 

But  now  when  the  curtain  was  down  as 
she  gayly  talked  and  her  companion  com- 
38 


THE  ADORERS  OF  ANNE 


fortably  listened,  an  unpleasant  impression 
entered  her  mind.  She  was  one  source  of 
diversion  to  him,  and  her  vivacity  and  wit 
he  was  complacently  absorbing,  giving 
her  indeed  his  interest,  but  contributing 
no  adequate  return  for  her  mental  exer- 
tions. 

She  conceded,  however,  that  he  was  pa- 
tiently gallant  when  later,  cogitating  her 
new  thought,  she  appeared  distrait;  but  a 
working  truth  had  forced  itself  upon  her, 
and  she  went  on  from  point  to  point,  until 
she  beheld  herself  some  years  hence,  neg- 
lected and  alone,  since  she  no  longer  was 
able  to  afford  entertainment  by  sparkling 
animation. 

But  her  keen  sense  of  humor  came  to 
her  aid  and  also  a  frank  diagnosis;  she 
thought  disdainfully  of  her  real  trouble. 
She  so  missed  Roscoe's  tender  devotion 
that  she  was  becoming  hypercritical  re- 
garding other  men. 

Her  aunt  and  a  visiting  relative  joined 
39 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


the  couple  later  and,  as  they  all  left  the 
theater  and  sought  the  winter  garden  of  a 
near-by  restaurant,  Anne  recovered  her 
spirits  in  part  and  seemed  her  old  self. 

"  Talk  to  me  now,"  she  said  to  Graham, 
and  if  her  words  contained  a  reproach  it 
passed  him  by;  "I  have  been  gay  all  even- 
ing." She  turned  to  her  aunt :  "  Is  it  not 
time  now  that  I  should  be  entertained?" 

Graham,  at  this  remark,  began  to 
shower  her  with  unmeaning  phrases;  at 
least  so  they  seemed  to  Anne  in  her  pecu- 
liar mood.  And  she  did  not  attempt  to 
show  appreciation  of  his  adulation,  for  she 
still  felt  a  soreness  toward  him  for  some 
indefinite  sin  of  omission. 

"  But  I  have  always  enjoyed  just  this 
sort  of  thing,"  she  said  to  herself,  and  then 
fell  into  a  contemplative  mood  that  took 
no  notice  of  the  rest  of  the  party,  till, 
aroused  by  a  plaintive  note  in  Graham's 
voice,  she  turned  to  meet  his  eyes,  plainly 
surprised  and  a  trifle  bored. 
40 


THE  ADORERS  OF  ANNE 


She  then  tuned  herself  to  concert  pitch 
again,  and  shortly  he  was  once  more  her  in- 
terested, amused  attendant. 

Her  aunt  saw  the  flush  in  Anne's  cheek ; 
saw  the  light  in  her  eyes  and  the  tremble 
of  her  lips.  So  she  rose  soon,  hoping  that 
when  Anne  and  she  were  at  home  the  girl 
would  yield  her  confidence. 

But  Anne  sought  retirement  with  closed 
heart;  also  she  closed  her  eyes  and  mind 
upon  a  host  of  questions  that  confronted 
her,  and  so  troubled  was  she  that  when 
she  awoke  she  was  surprised  to  find  that 
morning's  light  dispelled  in  part  her  un- 
welcome thoughts. 

"  It  was  but  the  mood  of  a  moment," 
she  told  herself,  and  tried  to  forget. 

Still  Roscoe  was  absent  from  her  com- 
pany of  admirers,  and  even  when  Anne 
sent  him  an  invitation  to  an  evening  affair 
given  by  her  aurit  he  did  not  respond  in 
person. 

She    watched    until    the    evening    had 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


nearly  worn  away,  hoping  to  see  him,  but 
it  was  not  until  ten  o'clock  that  her  aunt 
told  her  he  had  telephoned  that  he  was 
kept  away;  then  Anne  devoted  herself 
with  more  than  passing  attention  to  the 
guests.  But  she  had  a  numb  feeling  of 
living  entirely  on  the  outside  of  things. 

Yet  with  a  strange  stirring  of  her  heart 
she  watched  the  girl  whose  engagement 
had  recently  been  announced,  and  whose 
fiance  hovered  about  her,  carefully  shield- 
ing her  by  an  inadequate  silken  shawl  from 
possible  drafts,  his  every  look  betokening 
a  quiet  reverence  which  the  girl  returned 
with  glances  of  deep  affection. 

Anne,  unable  to  cease  her  regard  of  the 
pair,  was  glad  when  a  young  man,  with 
whom  she  had  laughed  and  danced  during 
the  past  few  months,  approached  and  took 
her  to  a  secluded  spot  where  she  might 
rest.  She  had  not  known  how  tired  she 
was  until  she  sank  into  a  big,  comfortable 
chair  and  closed  her  eyes. 
42 


THE  ADORERS  OF  ANNE 


Then,  remembering  her  companion,  and 
as  though  impelled  by  his  unspoken  ex- 
pectations, she  roused  herself  and  began 
to  talk  in  her  usual  eager,  impetuous  man- 
ner. 

She  was  entirely  surprised  a  moment 
later  to  feel  his  hand  close  tightly  upon 
hers,  and  then,  before  she  could  expostu- 
late or  withdraw,  to  feel  his  kiss  upon  her 
cheek. 

"  I  cannot  understand  — "  she  mur- 
mured; then  she  stood  up  very  straight 
and  tall,  and  gazed  at  him,  waiting  for 
his  words  of  explanation,  her  deep  offense 
very  plainly  written  upon  her  face. 

"I  couldn't  resist  —  really,"  he  said. 
"Can  you  blame  me?  —  you  are  so 
lovely—" 

His  light  words  and  manner  were  sig- 
nificant of  the  unimportance   he   attached 
to  the  incident,  and  with  burning  indigna- 
tion Anne  left  him,  nor  did  she  speak  to 
43 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


Then  did  she  fling  herself  into  the  ready, 
patient  arms  of  her  aunt. 

"What  is  it,  dear?"  that  lady  asked 
lovingly. 

"  I  don't  want  to  be  simply  a  source  of 
entertainment  to  the  many,"  the  girl  cried 
bitterly;  "and  when  I  saw  Alice  Kep- 
pren  receiving  such  reverence,  such  adora- 
tion — " 

Her  aunt  stroked  the  bowed  head. 
"  But,  dear,"  she  said  at  last,  "  you  have 
so  many  admirers  — " 

At  the  words  Anne  turned  away,  filled 
with  shame  at  the  memory  of  the  indignity 
put  upon  her  earlier  in  the  evening.  She 
tried  to  understand  why  the  affront  had 
been  offered  to  her,  for  her  conduct  toward 
men  had  always  been  exemplary,  even 
though  she  rejoiced  when  she  added  one 
more  to  her  collection  of  admirers,  and 
44 


THE  ADORERS  OF  ANNE 


she  had  regarded  them  all  as  simple  con- 
tributors to  her  amusement. 

Amusement?  She  smiled  scornfully  as 
she  thought  of  her  erroneous  impression, 
for  it  was  she  who  had  furnished  the  en- 
tertainment, if  Graham's  attitude  was  a 
criterion  of  the  part  she  played  in  the  lives 
of  the  others.  Perhaps,  and  she  winced 
at  the  thought,  perhaps  she  was  classed 
with  the  many  girls  ready  to  give  liberally 
of  their  society  and  lighter  emotions  in  re- 
turn for  flattering  though  unmeaning  atten- 
tions. 

Then  only  did  she  allow  the  desire  she 
had  been  quenching  before  to  assert  itself, 
and  now  she  yielded  completely  to  it.  She 
wanted  the  regard  of  one  who  would  love 
and  cherish  her  whether  she  scintillated 
brilliantly  or  fell  silent  and  pensive. 

She  must  always  have  loved  him,  she 
believed  now,  dwelling  lingeringly  on  his 
tenderness  and  care  for  her.  She  remem- 
bered forgotten  instances  of  his  unceasing 
45 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


thought.  It  never  seemed  to  matter  to 
him  what  her  mood, —  gay,  grave  or  petu- 
lant,—  his  love  was  always  manifest, 
surrounding,  uplifting  and  sustaining  her. 

She  was  surprised  now  at  the  stirring 
of  her  heart  as  an  apprehensive  question 
intruded  itself  upon  her.  Did  he  after 
all  still  care  in  the  old  way  for  her?  Per- 
haps her  lightness  and  indifference  had  at 
last  done  their  work,  and  his  love  had 
died. 

Then  she  smiled,  not  because  she  felt 
her  own  power  over  him,  but  because  she 
felt  his  love  to  be  too  deep  a  thing  to  rise 
and  fall  at  the  instance  of  her  whimsical 
moods.  He  had  always  refused  to  take 
her  at  the  value  she  placed  upon  herself, 
but  had  seen  beneath  the  shallow  surface 
to  her  real  qualities  of  strength  and  fine- 
ness. 

Her  whole  being  now  yearned  for  him, 
and  she  was  about  to  ask  her  aunt  to 
write  to  him  on  some  pretext  when  her 
46 


THE  ADORERS  OF  ANNE 


natural  sincerity  came  to  the  surface,  and 
she  herself  wrote  simply  and  directly  ask- 
ing him  to  come  to  her;  saying  that  she 
had  missed  him  more  than  she  had  ever 
believed  possible. 

He  came  the  next  day,  and,  waiting  for 
no  preface,  Anne  went  to  him  and  put  her 
hand  in  his. 

"  I  want  you,  Kenneth,"  she  said  simply. 
"  Do  you  still  want  me?  " 

All  the  tender  yearning  that  had  lain 
in  his  heart  leaped  to  his  eyes,  and  with  it 
a  reverence  that  made  the  girl's  eyes  fill 
with  tears. 

"  Love  is  worth  everything,"  she  said 
at  last.  "  I  know  now.  That  knowledge 
came  in  a  mental  flash  one  night  a  week 
ago." 

He  waited,  regarding  her  with  pro- 
found tenderness. 

"  I  have  been  relishing  husks  and  letting 
the  realities  slip,"  she  said  then. 

"  Does  it  mean,  Anne,"  he  said  after 
47 


a  long  silence,  "  that  at  last  you  love  me?  " 

"  I  think  I  have  always  loved  you,"  she 
answered.  "  But  the  admiration  of  other 
men,  the  adulation,  all  have  seemed  so 
real,  while  it  seemed  a  giving  up  of  all 
that  made  life  interesting  to  marry." 

"  But  I  '11  show  you,  Anne,  how  great, 
'how  fine  love  can  be,"  he  cried.     "  The 
thought  of  you  has  ennobled  me.     I  knew' 
you  to  be  a  splendid  woman  to  whom  I 
could  look  for  inspiration." 

The  girl  raised  her  face,  flushed  with 
happiness  and  pride.  "  An  inspiration  — 
dear,  I  want  to  be  that.  I  want  to  be  all 
that  you  would  have  me.  And  to  think  — " 

"  What,  dear?  "  he  asked  as  she  hesi- 
tated. 

"  To  think  I  pushed  your  gift  away 
from  me  so  long;  your  gift  of  life  and 
work  together." 

His  hands  tightened  on  hers. 

"  Are  you  sure,  Anne  —  oh,  I  believe 
you  are,  but  I  want  you  to  say  it  —  sure 


tfE  ADORERS  OF  ANNE 


that  you  can  give  up  all  the  admiration  of 
others  and  be  content  only  with  my  abid- 
ing love?  " 

The  girl  raised  her  glowing  face  and 
regarded  him  with  love-filled  eyes. 

"  I  want  just  you  and  love,"  she  said. 
"  Besides,"  she  laughed  to  relieve  her  emo- 
tion, "  it 's  too  hard  to  entertain  and  amuse 
so  many  others." 

But  suddenly  the  laughter  ceased  as  in 
a  passion  of  deep  love  he  drew  her  close 
within  his  arms  and  kissed  her.  That  was 
the  moment  she  really  understood. 


IN  THE  FACE  OF  REALITY 


IN  THE  FACE  OF  REALITY 

WHEN  after  an  acquaintance  of 
three  months,  Marjory  became  en- 
gaged, her  married  sister  with  whom  she 
lived  asked  gently,  but  with  plain  direct- 
ness :  "  Are  you  sure  that  you  really  love 
Wilton,  dear?" 

"  Of  course,  I  love  him,  Josephine,"  the 
girl  answered  quickly;  "  he  is  everything  I 
could  wish, —  handsome,  polished  and 
clever." 

"  You  have  always  accorded  beauty  in 
life  first  place,"  Josephine  went  on,  not 
yet  quite  satisfied,  and  putting  her  hand 
softly  on  her  sister's  shoulder;  "  I  really 
believe  you  have  made  an  excellent  choice; 
but  I  want  you  to  be  sure  of  your  own  feel- 
ings, that  is  all." 

Marjory     laughed:     "How     old-fash- 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


ioned  you  are,  Josephine,"  she  said;  "but 
you  need  not  doubt  me  now,  for  I  am  at 
last  truly  and  thrillingly  in  love.  Does 
that  satisfy  you?  " 

Josephine  looked  wistfully  into  the 
roguish  eyes.  "  Girls  have  made  mis- 
takes, dear.  And  I  want  you  to  be 
happy." 

She  stooped  and  kissed  the  rather  petu- 
lant face  lifted  to  hers,  and  left  the  room, 
leaving  Marjory  to  prepare  for  her  lover. 

Marjory's  thoughts,  slightly  disturbed 
by  her  sister's  words  and  manner,  raced 
on  with  her  nimble  fingers.  Surely  she 
thought  as  a  lover,  hers  left  nothing  to  be 
desired.  He  was  a  figure  to  attract  im- 
mediate and  flattering  attention.  His 
handsome  face  was  strong  in  line  and  gave 
undoubted  evidence  of  character.  His 
eyes  were  always  filled  with  tenderness 
and  thought  for  her;  and  his  every  act 
was  touched  with  chivalry. 

Then  as  she  pinned  two  lovely,  purple 
52 


IN  THE  FACE  OF  REALITY 


orchids  on  her  breast  just  as  the  doorbell 
rang,  her  face  dimpled  into  a  smile,  and 
she  put  from  her  the  slight  depression,  de- 
ciding that  Josephine,  as  always,  was  "  nar- 
row "  in  her  ideas. 

Wilton  Rowland  waiting  to  receive  her 
in  the  little  room  off  the  library  put  down 
his  book  as  he  heard  the  rustle  of  her 
skirts  on  the  stairs  and  went  to  meet  her. 

He  took  her  hands  gently  within  his 
own.  "  You  are  sweeter  than  any  flower, 
Marjory,"  he  said,  and  stood  gazing  at 
her. 

Marjory  blushed  divinely.  "  I  'm  glad 
you  think  so,"  she  said.  Then  moving 
closer  to  him.  "  Take  me  out,  Wilton. 
The  evening  and  the  moon  are  both  beau- 
tiful." 

'  Throw  a  scarf  over  your  head,"  he 
said,  at  once;  "and  we'll  walk  down  to 
the  lake." 

Marjory   ran  upstairs   again,   returning 
in  a  moment  with  a  light  shawl.     "  You 
53 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


don't  really  think  I  need  it  this  warm 
night,"  she  said,  pausing  on  the  last 
step  and  looking  into  the  eyes  lovingly 
upturned  to  her.  "  But  you  like  to  see 
me  wear  it,  that 's  all." 

"  Guilty,"  he  smiled  back  at  her. 
"  Now,  are  you  ready?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Marjory.  She  called  to 
Josephine,  and  in  a  moment  joined  How- 
land  at  the  door. 

They  walked  lingeringly  along  the 
moonlit  streets,  until  they  found  them- 
selves near  the  lake.  They  sought  an  old 
bench  sunken  in  the  sands  and  seated 
closely  together  they  gazed  off  into  the 
line  of  slender  green  that  lay  clearly 
marked  against  the  sky  line. 

Rowland  spoke  first,  looking  adoringly 
at  the  girl  beside  him : 

"  About  a  year  ago  I  sat  here  by  the 

lake,   alone;  the   days  were   empty  then. 

It  is  wonderful  to  me,"  his  voice  fell  and 

he  touched  her  hand  gently;   "to   know 

54 


IN  THE  FACE  OF  REALITY 


that  all  the  years  stretch  before  us  and  that 
we  shall  live  them  together." 

Marjory  spoke  softly:  "The  happy, 
happy  years,"  she  said;  "  with  you  always 
to  lean  upon;  you  who  are  so  handsome 
and  so  strong." 

"  I  don't  think  the  first,  even  if  true, 
is  anything  of  a  virtue,"  he  said,  with  a 
little  smile. 

Marjory  smiled  in  return.  "  I  think 
it 's  both  true  and  a  virtue,"  she  said. 
She  hesitated  for  a  moment  then  continued 
half-shyly :  '  Josephine  has  been  trying 
to  discover  whether  or  not  I  really  love 
you.  She  is  so  much  older  than  I  that 
she  rather  takes  a  mother's  place.  But 
there  can  be  no  doubt  of  my  love  for  you, 
Wilton,"  she  finished  earnestly,  moving 
closer  to  him  in  a  caressing  way  all  her 
own. 

Twilight  had  fallen  and  under  cover 
of  its  friendliness,  Howland  raised  the 
girl's  hand  to  his  lips,  holding  it  for  a 
55 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


long  moment  in  his  strong  clasp;  and 
Marjory,  as  often  before,  repeated  to  her- 
.  self  that,  even  with  her  many  lofty  ideals, 
in  Rowland  she  had  not  been  destined  to 
disenchantment;  for  he  was  all  that  she 
had  ever  dreamed  a  lover  should  be,  and 
her  visions  had  been  of  a  man  distin- 
guished in  appearance,  clever  of  speech 
and  with  a  magnetic  personality  that  should 
challenge  the  admiring  attention  of  all. 
And  his  wooing  charmed  her  and  com- 
pletely satisfied  her;  for  while  it  had  been 
tempestuous,  it  had  never  lacked  the  es- 
sentials of  fine  chivalry  —  a  true  gallantry 
that  rendered  the  man  extremely  attractive 
to  romantic  Marjory. 

Soon,  when  daylight  had  quite  faded, 
the  young  lovers  returned  to  Marjory's 
home.  The  moon  resplendent  bathed  all 
in  her  silvery  light,  and  Howland  took  no 
more  ardent  delight  in  watching  Mar- 
jory's face  with  the  transfiguring  glow  up- 
on it  than  did  Marjory  in  gazing  into  his, 
56 


IN  THE  FACE  OF  REALITY 


telling  herself  over  and  over  that  here  was 
a  lover  of  true  worth  —  bearing  all  the 
gifts  of  the  gods. 

Josephine  and  her  husband  sat  on  the 
wide  porch  when  the  young  pair  returned. 
The  older  sister  turned  fond  eyes  upon 
Marjory  when  she  sank  down  beside  her. 

"Tired,  dear?"  she  asked,  gently. 

"No,"  Marjory  answered;  then  her 
glance  sought  Howland  and  her  brother- 
in-law  talking  together  under  the  porch 
light. 

"David  is  not  very  tall,  is  he?"  she 
said,  looking  into  Josephine's  face  with 
a  little  apologetic  laugh;  "Wilton  seems 
head  and  shoulders  above  him,"  she  con- 
cluded. 

"  Never  mind,  little  sister,  I  quite  un- 
derstand your  innuendo,"  said  Josephine; 
"  David  is  not  handsome,  I  admit,  nor  is 
he  courtly,  your  favorite  word.  But  he  is 
true  and  big,  and  in  my  eyes  quite  every- 
thing that  is  good." 
57 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


"  Oh,"  returned  Marjory,  wonderingly; 
"  but  is  n't  it  remarkable  that  you  see  all 
that  in  him?" 

;<  When  he  is  so  homely?"  said  Jose- 
phine, not  in  the  least  hurt;  "No,  that  is 
not  remarkable;  but  it  is  remarkable  that 
you  have  the  effrontery  to  hint  at  such  a 
thing."  She  leaned  near  and  kissed  Mar- 
jory softly;  "Dear  little  beauty-loving 
sister,"  she  exclaimed,  "  I  'm  glad  your 
lover  is  all  that  you  desire." 

One  night  Howland  told  Marjory  that 
he  had  to  leave  the  city  on  an  important 
business  trip.  "  I  shall  be  gone  for  two 
weeks,"  he  said;  "an  eternity!" 

But  Marjory  denied  him,  smiling. 
"  We  can  write,"  she  said,  and  always 
emotionally-guided  her  thoughts  swung  to 
the  new  sensation  of  for  the  first  time  re- 
ceiving a  letter  from  him.  "  And  the  days 
will  soon  pass,"  she  added. 

But  after  he  had  gone,  she  discovered 
58 


IN  THE  FACE  OF  REALITY 


that  life  did  seem  rather  flat.  She 
watched  eagerly  for  his  first  letter,  and 
when  it  came,  she  read  delightedly  its 
every  phrase,  breathing  his  love  for  her. 
She  answered  at  once,  then  waited  in  pleas- 
urable anticipation  for  the  next  letter. 

But  a  week  passed  and  she  heard  noth- 
ing from  him  till  one  morning  a  formal 
missive  arrived,  written  by  the  matron  of 
a  hospital  to  which  Howland  had  been 
taken  from  his  hotel,  stating  that  he  was 
ill  and  had  been  unable  to  write  himself, 
although  he  was  now  gradually  gaining  a 
little  strength. 

Marjory  sat  for  a  moment  with  the  let- 
ter held  between  listless  fingers,  enduring 
a  pang  of  pity  for  Howland  alone  in  a 
city  hospital,  divided  by  an  ocean's  span 
from  all  his  relatives. 

In  a  moment  then  impetuously  her  re- 
solve was  taken.     She  would  go  to  him ! 
Surely  her  place  was  now  at  his  side,  where 
59 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


she  could  help  to  nurse  him  to  health  again. 
Here  she  thought  was  a  new  and  interesting 
element  in  her  love  story. 

Josephine  with  helpful  sympathy  ap- 
plauded the  decision,  and  also  made  prep- 
arations to  accompany  Marjory,  a  sacri- 
fice the  latter  hardly  comprehended.  So 
within  a  day,  almost  breathless,  not  realiz- 
ing fully  that  she  was  really  on  the  way 
to  Howland,  with  Josephine,  Marjory 
found  herself  on  the  train  speeding  to  the 
distant  city. 

When  she  was  settled  in  her  place  she 
gave  herself  up  to  dwelling  with  romantic 
expectations  upon  the  approaching  scene 
when  Howland  should  first  see  her.  He 
would,  she  knew,  greet  her  as  always  with 
his  perfect  manner;  illness  could  not 
change  him,  nor  subdue  his  ardent  glances. 
And  she  in  turn  would  meet  him  softly, 
charmingly,  perhaps  a  little  shyly. 

And  pursuing  her  enticing  plans,  she 
concluded  that  during  her  attendance  upon 
60 


IN  THE  FACE  OF  REALITY 


him,  she  would  wear  a  soft  white  dress, 
sitting  beside  him  with  her  hand  in  his,  at 
times  perhaps  reading  to  him  and  lifting 
her  eyes  often  to  meet  his  adoring  gaze. 
She  indulged  herself  for  hours  in  her  al- 
luring dreams. 

Rowland  wasted  with  suffering,  changed 
to  a  shadow  of  his  former  self  by  the  sud- 
den, keen  illness  that  had  seized  him,  gazed 
up  into  Marjory's  face  when  with  Jose- 
phine she  stood  by  his  bedside. 

"  It  was  good  of  you  to  come,"  he 
whispered. 

"  I  shall  be  here  every  day,"  she  replied; 
"  and  you  will  soon  be  well  and  able  to 
return  home  with  us." 

He  smiled  wanly.  Marjory's  eyes  ac- 
customed now  to  the  dimness  of  the  room 
could  see  his  sunken  cheek  and  the  strag- 
gling, uneven  beard  that  lay  upon  it.  The 
inertness  of  his  hand  falling  from  hers, 
and  his  great  lassitude,  touched  some  hid- 
61 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


den  string  within  her  to  painful  vibration. 

Of  necessity  the  first  visit  was  a  short 
one;  but  the  next  day  while  Josephine 
went  to  the  children's  ward,  Marjory 
found  that  some  improvement  had  taken 
place  in  Rowland's  condition,  and  she  was 
to  be  allowed  to  remain  with  him  for  an 
hour. 

But  better  as  he  was,  Howland  still  lay 
weak  and  unable  to  respond  to  the  girl's 
seeking  glances ;  and  once,  even  while  she 
was  talking  to  him,  he  closed  his  eyes 
wearily.  Then  Marjory  sat  up  very  sud- 
denly, while  a  little  feeling  of  hurt  wonder 
grew  within  her. 

As  the  time  passed  and  the  patient 
steadily  improved,  Marjory  was  permitted 
to  stay  with  him  for  a  few  hours  each  day ; 
and  though  a  nurse  was  in  attendance, 
Marjory's  relation  to  Howland  was 
pleasantly  recognized,  and  she  was  allowed 
to  perform  many  acts  of  service  for  him. 

But,  much  to  her  disappointment,  there 
62 


IN  THE  FACE  OF  REALITY 


seemed  to  occur  no  chance  to  assume  the 
pretty  role  she  had  decided  upon,  and  hav- 
ing seen  nothing  of  illness,  it  greatly  sur- 
prised her  that  the  virile  man  she  had 
known  now  required  constant,  prosaic  at- 
tentions that  meant  the  entire  putting 
aside  of  self  and  the  facing  of  stern  real- 
ities. 

These  revelations  of  the  sick-room 
proved  a  shock  to  her.  And  often  as  she 
gazed  into  Rowland's  worn  face,  she  felt 
an  impassioned  desire  for  the  return  of  the 
chivalrous  man  who  had  anticipated  her 
every  wish;  the  man  who,  in  his  normal 
condition  of  youth  and  health  and  good 
looks,  had  charmed  and  held  her,  but  who 
now  failed  to  touch  her,  except  with 
pity. 

She  tried  to  put  these  thoughts  from  her, 
but  they  had  sunk  deep.  She  did  not  re- 
alize how  deep  till  one  day  toward  the 
close  of  a  visit  at  the  hospital,  the  nurse 
raised  a  shade,  revealing  Howland  with 
63 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


his  wan,  unpoetic  face ;  then  unable  to  con- 
trol herself,  she  turned  away,  murmuring 
some  excuse  and  sought  Josephine. 

"  Let  us  go  home,"  Marjory  said,  and 
together  they  left  the  hospital. 

Josephine  glancing  at  her  sister's  face 
forebore  to  speak  at  first.  Then  as  her 
breath  came  haltingly  in  an  attempt  to 
keep  pace  with  Marjory's  quick,  nervous 
steps,  she  said  gently:  "What  is  the 
trouble,  dear?  " 

Marjory  paused  in  her  hurried  walk: 

"  Josephine,"  she  said;  "  David  has  not 
been  ill  many  times,  has  he?  "  She  looked 
in  a  wistful  way  at  her  sister,  as  though 
waiting  for  words  that  would  bring  relief 
to  her. 

Josephine  answered  quietly,  not  notic- 
ing apparently  the  strange  question: 
"  Not  often,  I  am  thankful  to  say;  he  was 
ill  for  a  short  time  after  our  marriage, 
but  then  it  was  a  beautiful  experience  to 
me." 


IN  THE  FACE  OF  REALITY 


"Beautiful — "  Marjory's  eyes  wid- 
ened with  astonishment. 

"Beautiful;"  Josephine  repeated  firm- 
ly. "  He  had  been  ill  before  our  mar- 
riage, and  much  to  my  regret  it  was  im- 
possible for  me  to  go  to  him  then.  But 
afterwards  when  he  had  an  illness,  it 
seemed  wonderful  and  inspiring  to  me  that 
I  could  nurse  him,  wait  upon  him  and  be 
with  him  every  moment  of  the  day  and 
night;  it  was  a  blessed  privilege.  I  be- 
lieve I  was  happier  then  than  at  any  time 
before.  Later  as  the  years  passed  that 
first  feeling  quieted,  but  now  I  love  him 
just  the  same  —  ill  or  well."  She  finished, 
turning  to  gaze  into  Marjory's  flushed 
face. 

"  Did  David  look  —  did  he  look  as  he 
does  now  when  you  were  first  married  — 
I  Ve  forgotten  ?  "  Marjory  stammered 
in  her  confusion. 

Josephine  smiled,  quite  understanding 
the  question.  "  He  was  very  homely  when 
65 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


he  was  ill,  a  great  deal  more  so  than  when 
he  was  well,"  she  said;  "  and  also  he  grew 
to  be  very  peevish  —  a  surface  irritability. 
But  that  made  no  difference  to  me.  I 
loved  him,  that  was  all.  And,  too,  I  had 
learned  his  fineness,  his  greatness  of  nature; 
and  that  is  all  that  counts,  you  know." 

Marjory  then  was  silent.  But  new 
questions  were  struggling  in  her  mind. 
Once  she  thought  with  startling  clearness 
that  the  strongest  part  of  her  love  had 
been  for  Rowland's  altogether  attractive 
personality;  she  had  not  learned,  nor  even 
thought  of  his  deeper  qualities. 

She  soon  lost  all  her  old  buoyancy  of 
spirit,  but  clung  to  the  hope  that  all  would 
be  well  when  Howland  was  fully  recovered. 
When  his  hair  had  grown  —  her  sense  of 
humor  did  then  prompt  a  smile  —  and 
when  he  became  his  old  devoted,  handsome 
self,  then  the  romantic  element  with  its  ac- 
companying thrill,  would  again  manifest 
itself. 

66 


IN  THE  FACE  OF  REALITY 


A  woman  with  her  flowing  hair  and 
pretty  laces  may  appear  interesting  while 
convalescing  from  a  blighting  illness;  a 
man,  never.  And  Howland,  to  whom 
the  attack  had  done  its  worst,  appeared 
even  less  attractive  when  up  and  able  to 
be  about  than  when  he  had  lain  in 
bed.  But  he  was  entirely  unconscious  of 
the  impression  his  close  cropped  head 
and  sunken  face  made  upon  the  girl  he 
loved. 

And  soon,  fight  as  Marjory  did  desper- 
ately to  keep  the  truth  from  asserting  itself, 
it  did  finally  force  itself  upon  her.  She 
had  never  really  loved  him!  If  she  had, 
nothing  could  have  changed  her,  or  so  she 
believed  now.  But  she  had  never  even 
known  the  real  man,  and  had  succumbed 
to  a  mere  emotional  feeling  for  him 
founded  entirely  upon  his  personable 
characteristics;  and  when  by  illness  he  was 
bereft  of  his  good  looks  and  chivalrous 
manners,  all  that  attracted  her  was  gone. 
67 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


Often  now  she  thought  of  Josephine,  lov- 
ing David  because  he  was  David. 

If  only,  she  thought,  she  had  not  de- 
cided to  play  the  part  of  nurse !  How- 
land  would  have  returned  to  her  his  old, 
handsome  self  and  she  would  have  married 
him  and  never  awakened  to  the  fact  that 
her  feeling  for  him  was  based  on  a  purely 
material,  perishable  foundation. 

She  turned  at  last  for  comfort  to  Jo- 
sephine; candidly  confessing  the  entire 
truth.  "  And  I  wish,  Josephine,"  she  said 
at  last,  "  that  I  had  not  come  here,  but  had 
waited  at  home  for  Wilton's  return  and 
finally  married  him.  Then,  perhaps,  I 
never  should  have  known  that  I  did  n't 
truly  love  him." 

"  That  might  be  so,"  said  Josephine, 
"  if  marriage  were  made  up  of  moonlight, 
thrills  and  tender  glances;  but  there  are 
realities  to  be  met,  trials  and  sacrifices  to 
be  endured.  With  true,  uplifting  love  you 
could  bear  all  these,  and  besides  find  big 
68 


compensations,  but  not  without  real  love, 
Marjory." 

"  Let  us  go  home  at  once,"  Marjory 
said  then,  impetuously;  "  Wilton  leaves  the 
hospital  today  and  does  not  need  me  any- 
more." Then  at  the  surprise  depicted  in 
Josephine's  face  she  went  on  hurriedly: 
"  I  can't  see  him  again;  how  can  I  tell 
him  I  have  made  a  mistake?  "  , 

4  You  're  about  to  do  something  very 
unworthy,"  said  Josephine  more  harshly 
than  she  had  ever  spoken  to  Marjory; 
"  you  have  not  found  Wilton  wanting  in 
anything  of  importance;  yet  you  are  going 
to  leave  him  here  with  no  explanation.  I 
am  disappointed  in  you." 

"What  shall  I  do,  then?"  said  Mar- 
jory, but  she  knew  and  impulsively  an- 
swered her  own  question.  "  I  will  see 
him,"  she  said,  "  and  try  to  explain." 

"  That  is  the  only  course  to   follow," 
answered   Josephine;   and   Marjory,    con- 
fused and  miserable,  shrinking  from  what 
69 


S^BL' 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


was  ahead,  tried  before  she  saw  Howland 
again  to  think  of  the  easiest  way  to  tell 
him  of  her  mistake.  But  when  he  did  call 
all  methods  were  forgotten,  and  she  found 
herself  speaking  hurriedly,  jerkily,  not  able 
to  look  at  him,  knowing  the  hurt  she  was 
inflicting. 

"  Wilton,"  she  commenced,  "  I  have 
made  a  mistake  in  regard  to  you;  it 
would  n't  be  true  to  say  I  have  made  a 
mistake  in  you,  because  I  don't  know  the 
real  you;  I  never  tried  to  find  out.  My 
feelings  for  you  were  not  established  on 
substantial  grounds  —  how  strange  that 
sounds,  just  like  Josephine  —  no,  let  me  go 
on ;  "  she  cried  as  he  attempted  to  speak, 
"  this  takes  courage  and  I  must  not  stop. 
But  when  you  were  ill  in  the  hospital  my  at- 
titude toward  you  changed.  You  seemed 
to  me  a  different  man ;  I  did  n't  know  you 
as  you  lay  there  gaunt  and  ill.  If  I 
had  really  loved  you,  you  would  n't  have 
changed  so  to  me,  don't  you  see?  Or  if 
70 


IN  THE  FACE  OF  REALITY 


you  had  changed  in  outward  appearance  it 
would  n't  have  mattered  in  the  least.  But, 
Wilton,  it  did  matter  —  terribly,  and  I 
know  that  our  engagement  must  end." 

He  made  it  easy  for  her  by  understand- 
ing at  once.  "If  you  were  doing  this  for 
any  other  reason,  Marjory,  I  might  try  to 
alter  your  decision.  But  I  remember  now 
so  many  things  during  our  engagement 
that  makes  me  see  clearly  your  meaning. 
I  know,  little  girl,  that  attractiveness  means 
much  to  you.  That  night  down  by  the 
lake  —  I  thought  of  your  words  after- 
wards —  you  said  I  was  handsome  and 
strong  —  being  handsome  meant  nothing 
to  me  —  but  I  realized  it  meant  nearly 
everything  to  you.  Why,  you  must  n't 
cry,  Marjory  — " 

A  rush  of  intense  gratitude  filled  the 
girl  for  his  tenderness.  "  You  do  not  hate 
me  then !  "  she  cried. 

"  Hate  you !  Surely  then  you  do  not 
know  me,  Marjory."  His  eyes  sought 
7i 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


hers,  and  she  looked  away  unable  to  bear 
their  look  of  pain.  She  was  filled  with 
pity;  for  she  knew  she  might  have  spared 
him  had  she  looked  deep  enough  into  her 
own  heart;  but  she  had  gone  blindly  on. 

She  could  say  no  words  now  to  help  him 
and  so  she  stood  before  him  with  tense 
fingers  locked ;  then  as  the  moments  passed, 
she  found  herself  wishing  passionately  that 
he  was  not  such  a  stranger  to  her.  But 
stripped  temporarily  of  outward  graces  he 
appeared  as  one  she  had  never  known. 
Her  eyes  were  as  pain-filled  now  as  his 
when  she  was  able  to  raise  them  to  his 
face.  Then  she  moved  nearer  to  him  and 
held  out  her  hand:  "  I  shall  never  for- 
get your  generosity,"  she  said.  "  Per- 
haps —  understanding  a  little  of  the  real 
you  —  may  change  —  my  feelings  —  in  a 
measure.  Be  sure  —  that  I  shall  be  hon- 
est enough  to  send  for  you  if  that  ever 
happens." 

He  took  her  offered  hand  gently  within 
72 


IN  THE  FACE  OF  REALITY 


his  own,  and  looking  into  her  uplifted, 
tearful  eyes  he  seemed  to  find  a  promise, 
while  his  heart  told  him  that  should  she 
ever  send  for  him  the  future  would  be 
sweet  and  rich  for  them  both. 

And  Marjory,  with  her  hand  in  his,  felt, 
too,  that  with  the  knowledge  of  essentials, 
life  held  perhaps  deeper,  more  lasting  joys 
than  she  had  dreamed  of. 

Thus  their  parting  was  rimmed  with 
hope. 


A  DREAMER  OF  DREAMS 


"A 


A    DREAMER    OF    DREAMS 

LICE    has    come,"    said    Alice's 
father  as  the  doorbell  pealed. 

"  Yes,  she  's  here  at  last,"  responded 
the  mother,  going  swiftly  to  the  door. 

In  a  moment  Alice's  merry  laugh  echoed 
through  the  house  as  lovingly  she  greeted 
her  mother.  "Home  again!"  she  sang; 
and  then  seeing  her  father  gazing  at  her 
with  adoring  eyes  she  went  quickly  to  him 
and  flung  her  arms  about  his  neck. 

After  a  moment  he  held  her  away  from 
him,  while  he  looked  into  her  sparkling 
face.  "Glad  to  be  here?"  he  asked,  a 
little  wistfully;  "  Not  spoiled  by  adulation 
and  the  display  of  wealth?  " 

She  shook  him  playfully.     "  The  same 
dear  dad,"  she  commented;  "  Why,  there  's 
no  place  in  all  the  world  like  this." 
75 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


Filled  with  the  melody  of  her  young 
voice,  the  old  home  awoke.  The  girl's 
animation  was  contagious,  and  her  brother, 
a  serious-minded  student  at  the  age  where 
he  glimpsed  that  he  alone  could  save  the 
world,  laughed  as  he  teased  her:  "  Step- 
hen 's  just  haunted  the  house  since  you 
were  away." 

Alice  smiled,  quite  unembarrassed. 
"Did  you  entertain  him,  Mother?"  she 
asked,  mischievously. 

"  As  well  as  I  could,"  Mrs.  Kingsley 
replied;  "  Father  and  I  took  turns;  "  she 
paused  for  a  moment.  "  I  'm  very  fond 
of  Stephen,"  she  continued  with  a  meaning 
look  directed  at  her  daughter;  but  Alice 
entirely  unconscious,  made  some  light  an- 
swer and  disappeared  into  her  own  room. 

A  little  later  in  the  day  Alice's  mother 
telephoned  to  many  of  the  girl's  young 
friends,  and  in  the  evening  despite  a  sudden 
rain,  they  all  flocked  to  the  old  house,  so 
beloved  was  Alice  for  her  sweet  spirit  and 
76 


A  DREAMER  OF  DREAMS 


her  joy  of  life:  and,  notwithstanding  the 
fact  that  she  had  travelled  a  good  part  of 
the  day,  she  was  quite  unwearied  and  cor- 
dially welcomed  all. 

The  smile  deepened  in  her  eyes  when 
close  upon  the  arrival  of  the  others,  fol- 
lowed her  old  schoolmate,  Stephen  May- 
nard.  But  no  conscious  flush  mounted  her 
cheek;  she  gave  him  only  the  firm  hand  of 
friendship  while  laughingly  she  rallied  him 
upon  his  allegiance  to  her  mother. 

The  young  man  with  reverent  glance 
watched  her  as  she  moved  among  her 
friends.  The  rareness  of  her;  the  splen- 
did qualities  of  her  mind  and  soul  flashed 
over  him  with  a  sense  of  humility.  Could 
he  hope  to  win  her? 

It  seemed  that  always  she  had  responded 
finely  to  his  highest  fancy.  As  a  little  girl 
her  soft  laughter  entranced  him,  and  her 
quick  tears  for  another's  mishap  moved 
him  deeply.  And  as  in  wholesome  beauty 

77 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


she  had  grown  to  womanhood,  she  seemed 
an  inseparable  part  of  his  life. 

He  lingered  when  the  guests  had  de- 
parted, and  with  a  little  smile  at  him 
Alice's  mother  left  him  alone  with  her 
daughter.  She  understood;  for  lately  she 
had  been  made  his  confidante. 

Alice  settled  herself  near  him  upon  the 
capacious  lounge.  Her  hair  soft  and  love- 
ly lay  above  brown  eyes  that  gazed  mis- 
chievously into  his. 

"Well,  Stephen,"  she  began;  "what 
have  you  been  doing  during  my  absence? 
Dancing  attendance  upon  some  fair  lady?  " 

"  No,  my  fair  lady  was  not  here,"  he 
answered,  trying  to  speak  lightly. 

"  You  mean  me,  of  course,"  laughed 
Alice,  untouched;  "you  are  very  kind, 
Stephen,  but  you  cannot  impress  me  with 
your  seriousness.  I  can't  believe  the  little 
freckle-faced  boy  who  once  slapped  me  is 
now  my  devoted  cavalier." 

"  I  still  think  you  deserved  that  slap," 
78 


A  DREAMER  OF  DREAMS 


he  replied,  gravely;  "  for  you  willfully 
risked  blood  poison  after  I  had  warned 
you." 

Alice  was  silent  for  a  moment.  "  But 
fancy  slapping  a  girl,"  she  said;  "you 
were  n't  very  chivalrous.  I  don't  think 
I  can  ever  forgive  that  blow." 

He  smiled.  "Blow?  Now,  Alice,  you 
know  there  was  no  sting  in  that  slap.  And 
what  chivalry  can  a  freckle-faced  boy  of 
nine  possess?  I  saw  a  way  of  punishing 
you  and  I  did  n't  hesitate." 

"  Well,"  returned  Alice;  "  it  was  rather 
radical  action,  but,  after  all,  I  don't  alto- 
gether blame  you." 

Maynard  rose  and  began  to  speak  in  a 
low  voice :  "  I  could  never  hurt  you  in 
any  way,  Alice;  you  must  know  that." 
His  voice  changed  to  a  lighter  tone. 
"How  selfish  I  am,"  he  exclaimed;  "you 
were  on  the  train  for  several  hours  today, 
entertained  a  dozen  friends  this  evening, 
and  now  stay  to  entrance  me  with  your 
79 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


presence  when  you   are  tired  to   death." 

"  Well,  it 's  kind  of  you  to  see  it,"  she 
replied,  with  malicious  humor,  while  not 
suppressing  a  yawn.  "  Come  again  soon." 

She  flung  the  taunt  at  him,  and  smiling 
back  at  her,  he  left. 

Very  opportunely,  however,  Maynard 
was  sent  away  on  business  by  his  firm. 
And  much  to  her  surprise,  for  the  first 
time  Alice  discovered  a  great  abyss  that 
his  absence  made  in  her  life.  And  when 
for  a  week  she  received  no  word  from 
him,  she  felt  indescribably  neglected. 

She  was  annoyed  at  herself  because  she 
so  missed  him ;  she  did  not  run  to  the  door 
as  formerly  at  the  postman's  ring,  and  in 
every  way  she  tried  to  keep  the  truth  from 
asserting  itself.  Then  finally  she  half- 
shyly  admitted  to  herself  that  after  all  she 
was  very  fond  of  this  old  schoolmate. 

One  night  she  was  engaged  in  rather 
listlessly  reading  a  book  when  the  doorbell 
rang.  At  the  sound  she  sat  up  straight, 
80 


A  DREAMER  OF  DREAMS 


the  color  dying  her  cheeks  while  her  eyes 
filled  with  a  radiant  and  expectant  light. 

"  I  'm  in  the  library,"  she  called  as  the 
maid  went  swiftly  down  the  long  hall. 
"  Show  any  visitor  in  here,  Elizabeth." 

She  knew  even  before  the  eager  steps 
reached  the  library  door  that  Maynard  had 
returned.  She  rose  to  meet  him,  and  her 
heart  leapt  as  he  gazed  at  her. 

"  Did  you  get  my  letter,  Alice,  saying 
that  I  would  come  tonight?  "  he  asked. 

"  Letter  —  Stephen  —  I  received  no 
letter,"  she  said,  still  flushed  and  with 
sparkling  eyes.  "  I  thought  you  had  — 
forgotten  —  me  — "  Her  voice  faltered. 

Maynard  spoke  quickly:  "  Forgotten 
you,  Alice,"  he  cried.  Then  he  paused  and 
eagerly  searched  her  face.  "  Alice,  can 
you  try  to  love  me;  I  Ve  wanted  you  so, 
dear,  wanted  you  so." 

She  looked  up  at  him  then  with  a  little 
smile.     "  Try  —  try  — "    she    murmured : 
"  Why,  Stephen,  I  Ve  already  learned." 
81 


Later  when  alone,  Alice  settled  deep  into 
her  chair  and  tried  to  realize  that  she  had 
given  herself  to  another's  keeping.  It  had 
all  been  so  sudden,  so  unexpected  that  she 
could  not  marshal  into  order  her  scattered 
thoughts.  But  the  memory  of  Maynard's 
tender  words  vibrated  in  her  heart  and  she 
believed  that  now  she  knew  the  divine 
significance  of  life. 

And  to  Maynard  she  was  the  meaning  of 
all  things.  Her  tenderness  seemed  to 
flame  into  being  at  his  approach  though 
she  never  gave  freely  of  herself  to  him, 
a  half-shy  reserve  seeming  to  enfold  her. 
But  as  they  sat  together  in  the  evenings, 
the  girl  close  beside  him,  their  new  rela- 
tion seemed  too  wonderful  to  the  man  to 
be  true,  so  long  had  he  loved  her  and  so 
long  had  his  love  seemed  unavailing. 

It  was  only  after  some  weeks  had  passed 

that  Maynard  began  vaguely  to  feel  that 

a    hush    had    fallen    upon    Alice's    bright 

spirits.     A  question  stirred  him.     Had  he 

82 


A  DREAMER  OF  DREAMS 


failed  her  in  any  way?  But  he  could  not 
in  justice  accuse  himself.  Yet  more  and 
more  she  grew  to  be  like  a  rose  curling  its 
petals,  seeming  to  offer  a  direct  withdrawal 
to  those  about  her. 

Maynard  finally  realized  very  plainly 
the  change  in  her.  He  could  not  under- 
stand at  first;  then  he  thought  she  must  be 
ill,  so  quiet,  so  shadowy  to  him  had  she 
become.  But  Alice  was  in  a  land  where 
only  ideals  bloomed.  And  she  trod  fear- 
fully since  nothing  was  habitual  or  famil- 
iar. Only  things  transcendental  seemed  to 
possess  worth,  and  when  Maynard  laughed 
and  talked  happily,  she  shrank  from  him, 
while  a  little  wonder  rooted  in  her  mind. 
How  could  he  descend  from  the  heights 
to  the  practical  ground  of  mirth  and  ani- 
mation? 

All  this  Maynard  could  not  know,  and 
as  time  passed  and  he  still  laughed  and 
enjoyed  himself,  more  and  more  Alice  dep- 
recated his  human  acceptance  of  their 
83 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


new  relation.  And  at  last  to  hide  the 
hurt  that  grew  within  her,  she  adopted  an 
impassive  surface  that  Maynard  could  not 
penetrate. 

He  arrived  one  night  with  theater 
tickets.  Alice  sat  with  a  piece  of  sewing 
clasped  idly  in  her  fingers.  She  greeted 
him  with  a  pensive  smile. 

"Aren't  you  ready,  dear?"  he  asked. 

"  Ready?  "  she  repeated;  then  seeing  the 
tickets  which  he  held  forth  she  started  up 
with  a  look  of  regret.  "  I  forgot  all  about 
the  theater,"  she  admitted;  "Shall  I  have 
time  to  dress?  " 

He  sensed  her  reluctance.  "  Perhaps 
you  'd  rather  stay  at  home,  Alice?  "  he  sug- 
gested. 

She  glanced  quickly  at  him.  "  O  Step- 
hen, I  would  very  much  rather  stay  at 
home,"  she  confessed;  "  it  seems  so  quiet, 
so  fitting  here  —  and  at  the  theater  the 
music,  the  lights  are  so  distracting  — " 
84 


she  broke  off  suddenly.  "  You  under- 
stand, Stephen,  don't  you?  " 

He  nodded,  although  he  was  really  per- 
plexed. "Shall  we  read  or  talk  then?" 
he  asked,  taking  her  hand  tenderly. 

"  Just  talk  to  me,"  she  said. 

"  Well,  today,"  he  began,  plunging  in, — 
"  I  met  Robertson.  He  has  come  back 
here  to  live.  He  is  an  interesting  chap, 
very  entertaining.  He  told  me  a  story 
that  I  thought  quite  clever.  You  '11  laugh 
at  it,  too." 

Alice  gazed  reproachfully  at  him.  "  A 
funny  story,"  she  said;  "Why,  Stephen, 
how  can  you  ?  " 

"  I  don't  understand,  Alice,"  he  said, 
after  a  short  pause  given  to  reflection, 
"  for  you  used  to  enjoy  a  good  story. 
You  were  always  smiling  and  happy." 
He  sat  up  very  straight.  "  And,  dear,  you 
seem  so  changed." 

"  Changed;  "  Alice  repeated;  "  of  course 
my  entire  life  is  different.  Everything  is 
85 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


so  wonderful  now,  touched  by  the  sanctity 
of  our  love." 

"  Oh,  of  course,"  he  answered,  vaguely; 
"  shall  I  read  then  to  you,  dear?  " 

She  nodded,  and  picking  up  the  book 
lying  near,  he  began  to  read  aloud  though 
in  the  depths  of  his  mind  lurked  a  puz- 
zling uneasiness. 

And  so  they  passed  their  evenings  to- 
gether, Maynard  endeavoring  to  grasp 
just  what  was  required  of  him;  striving  to 
quench  any  regret  that  the  girl  whose  keen 
perceptions  and  charming  responsiveness 
had  claimed  his  admiration  seemed  now  to 
have  lost  her  wholesome  sense  of  humor 
and  to  have  become  almost  a  stranger  to 
him. 

But  strive  as  he  might  he  could  not  un- 
derstand the  subtlety  of  her  expectations, 
and  when  his  mystified  mind  sometimes 
sought  direct  answers  by  plain  questioning, 
the  girl  shrank  from  him,  and  soon  there 
86 


A  DREAMER  OF  DREAMS 


fell  a  muteness  between  them  that  was  a 
signal  of  coming  disaster. 

Finally  Alice  folded  away  in  her  heart 
the  grievous  belief  that  Maynard  possessed 
no  real  sentiment.  That  while  upon  the 
wings  of  her  love,  she  could  rise  to  won- 
drous heights,  he  must  remain  in  the  val- 
ley. 

And  Maynard  with  deep  pain  believed 
that  Alice  had  mistaken  herself  and  did 
not  love  him.  Else  how  could  she  hold 
herself  so  aloof  from  him?  But  he  ex- 
onerated her  absolutely  and  sadly  blamed 
himself  that  he  was  powerless  to  make  her 
happy. 

"  Alice,"  he  said,  one  night  after  a  si- 
lence lasting  for  some  moments,  "  can't 
you  be  quite  frank  with  me?  " 

The  girl  looked  up  and  meeting  his  eyes 
she  spoke  without  thought,  impetuously : 

"  Perhaps  we  have  made  a  mistake, 
Stephen;  is  that,  too,  what  you  think?  " 

She  had  gone  now  quite  beyond  the 
87 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


range  of  his  comprehension,  but  he  con- 
tinued to  question  her: 

"Can  you  explain  things?"  he  asked 
again.  "  Wherein  have  I  failed?  I  have 
tried  so  hard  to  be  worthy  of  you.  Per- 
haps if  you  could  show  me  my  mistakes, 
I  might  be  able  to  remedy  them." 

"  Because  you  can't  understand  now," 
she  returned  then;  "there  is  really  no 
chance  of  your  ever  understanding,  is 
there?" 

"  Perhaps  not,"  he  said,  and  soon,  as 
never  before,  they  parted  with  no  word, 
Maynard  searching  his  heart  for  possible 
light. 

Alice  went  wearily  up  the  stairs  after  a 
time,  and  at  the  door  of  her  own  room  she 
met  her  mother.  Mrs.  Kingsley's  eyes 
questioned  her  and  the  girl  spoke  hurriedly. 
"  Stephen  left  early  tonight." 

"  What  is  the  trouble,  Alice?  " 

The  girl,  filled  with  conflicting  emotions, 
answered  the  direct  question  with  impul- 


A  DREAMER  OF  DREAMS 


sive  words.  "  I  believe  we  have  made  a 
mistake,  Mother.  I  have  been  discon- 
tented for  a  long  time.  Stephen  has  no 
real  sentiment,  I  have  discovered,  and  re- 
cently I  have  begun  to  doubt  his  love  for 
me." 

Her  mother  answered  at  once  with  a 
warmth  of  feeling  that  made  her  meaning 
sink  deep  into  the  girl's  mind. 

"  No  real  sentiment!  "  she  echoed;  "  I 
think,  Alice,  he  has  more  real,  vital  senti- 
ment than  anyone  you  know." 

Alice  did  not  answer,  but  with  a  little 
gesture  of  weariness  she  pushed  open  the 
door,  turning  once  almost  reluctantly  to 
receive  her  mother's  kiss. 

"  Good-night,  Mother,"  she  said. 
Then :  "I  know  you  think  only  of  my 
good." 

She  closed  the  door  and  sinking  down 

upon  her  bed,  her  strained  tension  relaxed 

and  she  yielded  to  the  tears  that  had  been 

close  to  her  eyes  all  evening.     After  a  few 

89 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


moments,  however,  she  recovered  herself, 
and  then  came  a  realization  of  the  banality 
of  her  recent  quick  confidence  to  her  moth- 
er. She  tried  to  dismiss  the  remembrance 
as  she  rose  to  bathe  her  eyes. 

As  she  turned  from  her  dresser,  her 
glance  darted  upon  a  photograph  pinned 
above  the  mirror.  She  lifted  it  down  and 
took  it  beneath  the  light.  It  was  an  old 
school  picture,  a  group  of  children  in  her 
class  and  at  her  right  hand  stood  Stephen. 
How  well  she  remembered  the  boyish  face 
with  its  serious,  never-wavering  eyes. 

As  she  gazed  a  flood  of  memories  came 
to  her.  Just  after  the  picture  was  taken 
an  unhazardous  fire  had  broken  out  in  the 
school  building,  and  the  teacher  in  an  en- 
deavor to  avert  a  panic  had  called  imme- 
diately upon  Stephen  to  help  drill  the  chil- 
dren into  order.  He  was  always  depend- 
able. 

Alice  remembered  now  that  his  lips  were 
firm,  and  his  eyes  held  a  light  that  calmed 
90 


A  DREAMER  OF  DREAMS 


the  excited  little  ones ;  and  when  they  were 
all  safely  out  in  the  school  yard  he  had 
sought  her  and  inquired  in  his  quiet  voice 
if  she  were  all  right;  and  had  she  been 
badly  frightened? 

She  thought,  too,  of  the  time  when  he 
had  slapped  her;  she  had  never  ceased 
taunting  him  about  that ;  she  knew  that  she 
deserved  his  reprimand;  for  she  had  put 
her  hand  into  a  mass  of  rusty  nails,  regard- 
less of  his  express  advice  not  to  do  so. 
But  she  had  rejoiced  even  then  that  she 
had  aroused  in  one  so  reserved  a  quick 
emotion,  however  she  was  punished. 

And  it  was  because  of  his  undisturbed 
poise  that  as  a  high  school  girl  she  had 
snubbed  him,  turning  from  him  to  those 
who  indulged  in  spectacular  deeds  and 
words.  Suddenly  and  quite  irrelevantly 
now  she  thought  of  her  cousin's  husband, 
who  was  always  knightly  and  chivalrous; 
who  constantly  offered  his  wife  graceful 
compliments  and  delicate  attentions.  And 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


Alice  once  had  voiced  her  admiration  to 
her  cousin : 

"  How  attentive  and  romantic  Richard 
is,  Leila ;  you  have  been  married  three 
years  and  he  is  still  treading  the  clouds 
with  you." 

Leila  had  smiled,  recognizing  the 
thoughts  of  an  idealistic  girl;  then  as 
though  impelled,  however  disloyally,  she 
answered : 

"  I  'd  rather  have  a  strong  arm  to  lean 
upon  and  feel  true  confidence  than  stumble 
on  the  unsure  footing  of  the  clouds." 

Alice  had  pondered  these  words,  but 
only  now  did  they  seem  at  all  clear  to  her. 
And  while  she  stood  thinking,  the  tele- 
phone bell  rang.  Her  heart  leaped  at 
the  sound.  Perhaps  Stephen  had  called 
her  up.  She  felt  now  that  she  wanted 

him  more  than  at  any  time  in  her  life. 

' 

But  going  swiftly  into  the  hall,  and  pick- 
ing up  the  receiver  her  hopes  fell  when  a 
woman's    voice     answered    her.     It    was 
92 


A  DREAMER  OF  DREAMS 


I    have    matinee 
Can  you  go  with 


a     moment :     Then : 


Leila,  her  cousin,  the  one  of  whom  she  had 
been  thinking.  The  voice  spoke  softly: 
"Is  that  you,  Alice?  Oh,  I'm  glad  I 
caught  you  at  home, 
tickets  for  tomorrow, 
me?" 

Alice     hesitated 
"  What  is  the  play,  Leila?  "  she  asked. 

"  Just  an  ordinary  comic  opera,"  Leila 
answered;  "  Richard  got  the  tickets.  It  's 
simply  one  of  those  shows  all  tinsel  and 
sparkle ;  there  's  no  substance  to  it,  no 
plot;  just  an  amusing  thing  for  a  few 
hours.  Can  you  go,  Alice?" 

"I  think  so,"  Alice  answered;  "I  am 
not  quite  sure  now;  suppose  I  call  you  up 
tomorrow  morning,  Leila?" 

"All  right,  that  will  do,  Alice;  good- 
night, dear." 

"  Good-night,"     Alice     answered     and 

hung  up  the  receiver.     She  walked  slowly 

back  to  her  own  room,  but  in  her  mind  a 

phrase    repeated    itself;    "All    tinsel    and 

93 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


sparkle";  the  words  struck  fire  leaving  a 
new  sense  of  values  to  take  the  place  of  the 
ideals  she  had  cherished. 

"  Well,  tinsel  and  sparkle  have  their 
place,"  she  murmured  half-defiantly. 

But  her  opened  mind  insisted  upon  forc- 
ing new  truths  upon  her.  It  told  her  now 
that  she  had  valued  the  ideal  as  the  whole 
of  her  relation  with  Maynard  instead  of 
a  part,  making  her  deeply  resent  his 
cheerful  humanness  and  his  interest  in 
practical  things. 

"  Well,  here  's  the  difference !  "  she  said 
again,  and  smiled  softly  at  the  sound  of  her 
own  voice;  "  Richard  gives  Leila  the 
tinsel  and  the  sparkle,  while  Stephen  will 
be  an  anchor  for  me;  I  Ve  been  nothing 
but  the  silly  little  schoolgirl  that  he  first 
knew." 

She  went  swiftly  down  the  hall  again,  in 
obedience  to  a  resolution  just  formed,  and 
paused  before  the  telephone,  when  sud- 
denly the  downstairs  doorbell  rang  sharply. 
94 


A  DREAMER  OF  DREAMS 


It  was  half  after  nine,  but  Alice  knew 
with  convincing  prescience  that  Maynard 
had  returned  to  her.  She  flew  down  the 
stairs  and  flung  open  the  door,  but  her 
words  of  impetuous  welcome  died  as  she 
saw  Maynard's  face.  It  was  set  in  such 
lines  of  pain  as  touched  her  heart  till  the 
tears  were  perilously  close.  She  believed 
that  she  would  never  forget  the  expression 
of  his  wondering  eyes. 

"  Oh,"  she  murmured  in  an  unsteady 
tone ;  "  come  in ;  I  —  I  did  not  expect  you." 

He  stepped  into  the  dimly  lit  hall,  clos- 
ing the  door  softly.  For  a  moment  he  did 
not  speak,  but  stood  gazing  into  the  girl's 
lovely,  changing  face.  Then  : 

"I  had  to  return,"  he  began;  "I  felt 
impelled  to  see  you  and  tell  you  that  I 
understand  at  last  after  much  thought  — 
when  perhaps  it  is  all  too  late.  I  know 
that  a  man  is  often  silent  when  he  should 
speak,  and  I  want  you  to  know  all  you 
have  meant  to  me."  He  faltered,  but  re- 
95 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


covered  and  went  on ;  "I  am  not  a  poet, 
and  so  often  I  have  had  to  search  for 
words  worthy  to  show  you  how  rare  a  gift 
I  held  you  — " 

He  stopped,  for  some  new  expression  in 
Her  face  made  his  heart  beat  fast  with  re- 
newed hope. 

Then  with  a  sudden  exaltation  of  spirit, 
Alice  put  out  her  hands  to  him  in  sweet 
abandon:  "You  not  a  poet,  Stephen?" 
she  denied,  tenderly;  "  My  ears  were  not 
attuned,  dear,  that's  all."  Then  after 
a  long  silence  she  smiled  a  tender  smile, 
yet  her  eyes  held  their  old  merry  light. 
"  I  think,  Stephen,"  she  said  softly,  "  that 
you  will  not  need  to  waste  any  more 
theater  tickets  —  I'm  quite  restored  to 
my  normal  self  again.  Now  we  under- 
stand." 

Maynard    did    not    answer,    but    drew 
her  to  his  heart,  holding  her  in  so  tender, 
so  yearning  an  embrace  that  Alice's  face 
96 


A  DREAMER  OF  DREAMS 


was  touched  with  a  shining  radiance  — 
and  her  heart  thrilled  with  gratitude  that 
at  last  her  vision  was  clear. 


97 


WHEN  ALL  IS  FAIR 


WHEN   ALL    IS    FAIR 

LUCILLA'S  sweet  face  glowed  be- 
neath the  fervor  of  Bracefield's 
words.  And  when  shyly  she  gave  him  the 
promise  he  craved,  she  felt  a  thrill  of  sur- 
prise that  he  could  be  so  moved  from  his 
usual  calm  attitude. 

He  was  a  perfect  lover,  dwelling  with 
tender  words  upon  the  beauty  of  her  eyes 
and  hair;  surely  no  one  had  ever  so  in- 
timately known  the  subtle  charms  of  his 
beloved. 

The  faint  curve  of  her  eyebrows  pleased 
him;  the  suppleness  of  her  slender  wrist 
allured  his  artist  fancy.  And  the  days 
flew  by  wonderful  for  Lucilla  in  their  rev- 
elation of  love  until  spring  came  with  un- 
due warmth. 

Then  the  days  found  Lucilla  inert  and 
99 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


pale,  the  descent  of  the  sudden  heat  mak- 
ing her  languorous,  but  she  was  her  old, 
vivacious  self  in  the  cool  evenings,  ready 
with  her  accustomed  charm  to  welcome 
Bracefield. 

"  I  love  you  in  white,"  he  told  her  one 
evening;  "  I  think  every  woman  ought  to 
be  compelled  to  wear  nothing  but  light 
colors." 

"  Think  of  the  cleaners'  bills,"  said 
Lucilla,  smiling  at  him ;  "  they  would  be 
tremendous." 

"  Some  way  should  be  found  no  matter 
what  the  cost,"  he  replied;  "  I  like  you  in 
white  even  though  you  do  look  a  little 
paler." 

"It  isn't  the  dress,"  said  Lucilla; 
"  I  Ve  been  having  headaches  lately  during 
the  day;  the  warm  weather  has  made  me 
very  uncomfortable.  So  Father  wants  me 
to  visit  his  sister  in  the  country." 

"  I  'm  sorry — "  Bracefield  began;  then 
100 


WHEN  ALL  IS  FAIR 


went  on   quickly;   "but  if  it  is   for  your 
good,  Lucilla,  you  must  go." 

"  Shall  you  miss  me?  "  she  asked,  know- 
ing that  he  would,  but  anticipating  his 
glowing  words. 

"  I  shall  miss  you  every  minute,"  he  re- 
sponded fervently;  "but  now  I  want  you 
to  go  and  bring  back  some  natural  roses 
with  you." 

So  Lucilla  made  her  arrangements;  but 
a  short  time  before  she  was  to  leave,  one 
of  the  sudden  blinding  headaches  to  which 
she  was  prone  seized  her.  She  remained 
in  bed  all  day  with  her  mother  hovering 
solicitously  near  her.  Not  till  evening  did 
the  pain  leave  and  then  Lucilla,  though 
very  weak,  insisted  upon  dressing  to  meet 
Bracefield. 

"  He  will  be  so  disappointed,  Mother, 
if  he  does  not  see  me,"  she  said;  "  he  has 
to  go  away  on  a  short  business  trip  to- 
morrow and  I  shall  be  gone  when  he  re- 
turns." 

101 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


So  a  very  pale,  nervous  girl  went  slowly 
downstairs,  at  eight  o'clock,  just  after  the 
doorbell  rang.  She  had  not  attempted  any 
of  the  little  elaborations  of  her  toilet  and 
her  dark  hair  was  brushed  plainly  back 
from  her  brow.  She  paused  in  the  door- 
way of  the  sitting  room  for  a  moment 
and  Bracefield,  turning  at  her  step  stood 
and  gazed  at  her  in  deepening  surprise. 
Then  he  spoke  quickly:  "How  plainly 
your  hair  is  dressed  tonight,  Lucilla;  I  like 
it  very  much  better  as  you  usually  wear  it." 

Lucilla  flushed  and  her  lips  trembled 
slightly:  "  I  have  not  been  well  all  day," 
she  said,  sinking  into  a  chair,  "  and  I  did 
not  wave  my  hair  as  usual." 

In  a  moment  he  was  contrite,  showering 
her  with  delicate  attentions  and  loving 
words.  But  Lucilla  did  not  immediately 
respond.  She  felt  hurt  that  he  had  not  at 
once  noticed  her  weakness  and  pallor. 
Then  she  resisted  the  mood  as  unworthy. 
1 02 


WHEN  ALL  IS  FAIR 


She  had  understood  that  men  did  not  no- 
tice things  as  women  did. 

So  at  last  she  smiled  at  him  and  listened 
to  his  explanation  of  his  business  trip  and 
what  It  might  mean  for  them  both.  "  If 
I  get  this  man  Temple  interested  in  my 
proposition,  Lucilla,  then  perhaps  you  will 
consent  to  a  little  earlier  wedding?" 

"Perhaps—"  said  Lucilla;  "but, 
Harry,  I  don't  care  about  the  lovely  home 
you  want  to  give  me;  or  the  wonderful 
clothes  —  I  want  only  you." 

"  You  are  a  dear  little  girl,"  Bracefield 
replied;  "but  pretty  clothes  a  woman 
should  have,  and  an  artistic  home  is  a 
lovely  setting  for  a  bride." 

"  But  —  I  should  be  satisfied  in  a  little 
flat  and  do  my  own  work  —  I  love  to  bake 
and  make  salads  — " 

"  And  incidentally  spoil  your  hands," 
said  Bracefield,  touching  her  soft  fingers. 
"  I  want  your  hands  always  to  be  white 
and  lovely,  dear." 

103 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


"And  my  hair  always  in  curl,"  said 
Lucilla,  looking  thoughtfully  at  him, 
though  she  smiled. 

"  I  'm  sorry  I  was  so  cruel  when  you 
first  came  in,"  he  said;  "  but  your  appear- 
ance startled  me  —  you  were  so  different, 
so  changed." 

The  clock  in  the  dining-room  chimed, 
and  Bracefield  rose  quickly;  "I  must  be 
off,  Lucilla,"  he  said:  "  I  Ve  got  to  take 
an  early  train  in  the  morning,  and  there 
are  some  things  I  must  attend  to  tonight." 

He  took  her  into  his  arms  and  kissed  her 
softly,  while  Lucilla  clung  to  him.  Their 
good-bye  befitted  an  intended  absence  of 
years. 

Two  days  later  Lucilla  was  in  the  coun- 
try with  her  aunt,  Mrs.  Eaton,  and  her 
Cousin  Julia,  the  latter  a  young  lady  of 
enthusiastic  temperament;  just  now  it  was 
tuned  to  highest  pitch  by  the  fact  that  in 
a  manner  she  had  become  what  she  desig- 
nated a  village  "  cheerer." 
104 


WHEN  ALL  IS  FAIR 


"  That 's  my  own  term,"  she  informed 
Lucilla  when  they  were  together  in  the 
white  bedroom  that  looked  out  upon  a 
glowing  garden;  "I  never  did  believe  in 
the  way  some  persons  dispense  charity,  so 
I  founded  this  name  and  inaugurated  an 
original  method." 

"How  very  interesting!"  commented 
Lucilla,  when  at  some  length  Julia  had  dis- 
coursed upon  her  usual  line  of  action. 
"  May  I  go  with  you  on  some  of  your 
trips?" 

"  Oh,  will  you?  "  cried  Julia,  delighted, 
and  her  eyes  wide  and  earnest  gazed  into 
Lucilla's  interested  ones;  "There  are  so 
many  old  persons,  you  know,  who  like  to 
have  me  visit  them;  and  with  the  practical 
flannels  I  leave  for  them,  I  also  give  them 
delectable  bits  of  gossip  and  reel  off  a  few 
!good  jokes;  and  even  if  my  stories  are  an- 
cient, as  Father  claims,  my  listeners  enjoy 
them." 

"  Well,  I  Ml  go  with  you  tomorrow,  if 
105 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


I  may,"  concluded  Lucilla;   "I'll  try  to 
contribute  a  mite." 

So  early  the  next  morning  the  two  girls 
set  out,  both  carrying  baskets.  When  they 
emerged  from  their  first  stopping  place, 
Lucilla's  eyes  were  bright  and  her  enthusi- 
asm ran  as  high  as  Julia's. 

"  How  grateful  they  all  are,"  she  said; 
"  I  don't  wonder  you  like  to  do  this  work, 
Julia.  I  'm  going  to  bake  a  cream  cake 
tomorrow  for  old  Mrs.  Johnson.  She 
said  she  used  to  love  cream  cake,  but 
lias  n't  tasted  any  for  years." 

"  And  she  '11  appreciate  that  more  than 
a  flannel  petticoat,"  said  Julia;  "even  if 
she  needs  the  petticoat  more.  I  know," 

she  finished  sagely. 

vj. 
So  the  two  girls  with  love  and  sincerity 

in  their  work,  went  about  the  village  bring- 
ing cheer  and  happiness  wherever  they 
stopped.  Lucilla  was  quietly  happy  in 
giving  herself,  and  rejoiced  that  a  certain 
1 06 


WHEN  ALL  IS  FAIR 


understanding  of  human  needs  never  failed 
her. 

When  after  three  weeks  her  visit  drew 
to  its  close,  she  really  felt  a  certain  regret, 
but  she  cheered  those  who  had  learned  to 
watch  for  her  with  the  promise  that  at  a 
later  season  she  would  return. 

"  Mother  and  the  others  will  be  so  glad 
to  hear  of  your  work,  Julia,"  she  said  on 
the  last  day.  "  And  I  envy  you  your  op- 
portunity. I  'm  going  to  come  soon  again, 
if  I  may." 

"  Come  next  month  —  if  you  have 
time,"  answered  Julia,  mischievously; 
"  and  meanwhile  select  a  few  persons  at 
home  who  need  a  little  cheering  and  give 
it  to  them." 

The  thought  found  immediate  welcome 
in  Lucilla's  mind,  and  she  counted  the 
hours  till,  arrived  at  home,  she  sat  at  the 
big  dining-room  table  and  told  her  family 
of  her  experiences  at  Julia's  home. 

A  silence  greeted  her  story,  but  looking 
107  . 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


around  she  saw  her  mother's  eyes  filled 
with  tears,  while  her  father  patted  her 
hand  gently. 

"  I  'm  going  to  do  some  '  cheering  '  here, 
Mother,"  said  the  girl;  "  You  do  lots  of  it, 
I  'm  sure;  take  me  with  you  some  time." 

Her  mother  smiled  her  fond  approval, 
while  the  eldest  brother  put  his  arm  about 
his  sister's  shoulder  and  said  with  a  loving 
little  hug :  "  Our  Angel  of  Chanty ;  don't 
get  too  good,  Sis !  " 

"  I  '11  try  not  to,"  said  Lucilla,  giving 
him  a  hug  in  return;  then:  "  I  Ve  got  to 
fly  now  and  dress;  Harry  is  coming  to- 
night." 

Her  father  gazed  lovingly  at  her:  "  I 
like  that  little  dress,  Lucilla;  you  needn't 
run  away  and  change  it.  We  are  going 
to  lose  you  all  too  soon;  give  us  as  many 
moments  as  you  can." 

"  Harry  likes  to  see  me  in  lacy  white," 
said  Lucilla;  then  with  a  little  sigh  she 
went  to  her  father:  "  I  'm  glad  you  like 
1 08 


WHEN  ALL  IS  FAIR 


me  without  any  frills,  Daddy,"  she  said. 
Then  she  started;  for  the  doorbell  rang 
loudly.  "There,"  she  cried,  "Harry  has 
come;  tell  Ellen  to  never  mind;  I  '11  open 
the  door." 

She  ran  into  the  hall,  and  flung  open 
the  door.  "  Oh,  you  're  early,  Harry," 
she  cried;  "  I  'm  so  glad  to  see  you." 


His 


Celled 


quickly  over  her  little 
navy  blue  dress,  plain  and  unadorned,  be- 
fore speaking.  "  I  thought  I  'd  come 
early,  Lucilla,"  he  said;  "  I  have  pleasant 
news." 

"  I  'm  very  glad,"  she  cried;  "  come  into 
the  den." 

He  followed  her  and  sank  into  a  big 
arm  chair.  "  I  'm  a  little  tired,"  he  said; 
"  I  just  got  in  town  this  morning.  My 
man  is  interested;  that  means  everything." 

"  And  you  can  go  ahead  with  the  busi- 
ness as  you  first  thought,"  said  Lucilla, 
pulling  a  chair  close  to  his.  "  No  wonder 
you  are  happy." 

109 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


Then  seeing  his  glance  again  cast  at  her 
plain  dress,  she  spoke  quickly :  "  I  'm 
sorry  I  did  n't  have  time  to  put  on  another 
more  dressy  gown,  Harry;  but  I  was 
telling  Father  and  Mother  about  my  ex- 
periences in  the  country  with  Julia.  And 
Father  likes  this  little  dress;  he  calls  me  a 
Quaker  whenever  I  wear  it." 

"  I  don't  like  Quakerish  fashions,"  said 
Bracefield,  rather  shortly,  and  remained  si- 
lent for  a  moment.  Lucilla  spoke  softly. 

"  Julia    is   so    interesting,    Harry ;    I  'm 
sure  you  will  like  her.     She  is  doing  some 
very  interesting  work  in  her  village." 
"  Work  ?     What  kind  of  work  ?  " 
Then  Lucilla  told  him  quietly  but  still 
with  deep  feeling.     At  the  thought  of  one 
touching  incident  the  sudden  tears  rose  to 
her   eyes.     She   offered   a   little    apology, 
looking  into  Bracefield's  face. 

"You  see  how  selfish  I've  been;  or 
rather  unthinking.  I  Ve  never  come  in 


1 10 


WHEN  ALL  IS  FAIR 


contact  with  any  hardship.  Now  I  'm  go- 
ing to  do  a  little  cheering  here." 

Her  face  glowed  lovely  and  pink  while 
she  gazed  at  him,  waiting  for  the  fond 
touch  of  his  hand  and  his  words  of  ap- 
proval. But  he  did  not  respond, —  only 
looked  at  her  in  a  cold  little  manner;  then 
a  faint  shadow  of  annoyance  deepened  in 
his  eyes. 

"  I  don't  understand  why  you  should  get 
morbid,"  he  said  finally  in  a  toneless  voice 
that  yet  held  reproof. 

"Morbid?"  she  returned;  "Why, 
Harry,  I  feel  happy,  really  happy  that 
there  is  a  little  something  I  may  do  to  help 
others." 

"  Still  it  is  n't  necessary,"  he  replied 
quickly;  "  I  don't  want  you  to  do  anything 
of  that  sort.  Let  someone  with  nothing  to 
commend  her  in  the  way  of  beauty  or 
charm  go  in  for  such  work."  He  paused 
for  a  moment  as  he  caught  her  bewildered 
look.  "  And,  besides,"  he  continued,  striv- 


in 


ing  to  imbue  his  voice  with  tenderness, 
"  I  don't  like  to  see  you  cry;  a  woman's 
first  duty  is  to  look  pretty,  and  it 's  rather 
a  shock  to  see  one's  ideal  with  red  eyes 
and  trembling  lips." 

"No  matter  what  the  cause?"  she 
stammered. 

"  I  don't  believe  anything  is  grave 
enough  to  make  a  woman  forget  to  be 
charming,"  he  said.  As  she  did  not  reply, 
he  went  on,  changing  his  annoyed  tone  to 
a  coaxing  one.  "  Come,  little  girl,  get 
your  hat  and  we  '11  take  a  walk;  we  '11  go 
where  there  's  light  and  cheeriness,  and 
where  you  '11  become  your  old  entertaining 
self  again." 

But  she  did  not  move,  only  gazed 
straight  before  her  with  a  perplexed  little 
frown  between  her  eyes. 

"What's  really  the  matter?"  he  said 
then,  and  now  his  displeasure  could  be 
plainly  sensed;  "  I  don't  understand." 

"No,"  she  said,  softly;  "no,  Harry,  I 
112 


WHEN  ALL  IS  FAIR 


don't  think  you  do."  She  rose  then  and 
held  out  her  hand.  "  Since  I  am  rather 
tired  and  so  are  you,  won't  you  excuse  me 
now?" 

"  Why,  certainly."  He  assumed  his 
debonair  poise  quickly.  u  I  '11  come  to- 
morrow evening.  I  hope  by  that  time 
you  will  have  quite  recovered  your  spir- 
its." 

When  he  had  gone,  she  stood  for  a  mo- 
ment at  the  foot  of  the  hall  stairs.  The 
family  was  in  the  dining-room  and  she 
could  hear  their  happy  care-free  voices. 

She  longed  to  go  to  her  mother ;  but  she 
resisted  her  desire  and  returned  to  the 
room  she  had  just  left,  seating  herself  in  a 
far  corner. 

The  revelation  of  Bracefield's  indiffer- 
ence toward  any  experience  of  hers,  hurt 
her;  and  the  belief  engendered  thereby  that 
he  loved  only  her  lighter  self,  deploring 
any  pilgrimage  into  a  beckoning  realm  of 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


thought,  deepened  her  eyes  with  wonder- 
ing pain. 

She  remembered  now  that  often  quite 
plainly  he  had  been  bored  when  in  a  sober 
mood  she  had  reflected  on  things  outside 
his  prescribed  circle;  then  quickly  she  had 
driven  herself  into  animation. 

Her  mind,  despite  her  reluctance,  raced 
on,  always  questioning.  Could  there  ever 
be  mutual  understanding?  Would  he  not 
be  insistent  in  his  demands  for  one  side  of 
her,  intolerant  of  any  show  of  feeling  that 
might  tend  to  make  her  less  interesting  to 
him? 

Yet  she,  too,  loved  merriment  and  the 
joyous  things  of  the  world.  Her  heart 
spoke  now.  But  clearly  the  answer  came. 
Life  could  not  be  made  up  entirely  of 
ephemeral  emotions;  and  could  she  endure 
always  to  have  the  deeper  qualities  of  her 
being  misunderstood  and  deprecated? 

Again  her  thoughts  turned  to  his  apathy 
at  her  story  of  Julia's  loving  work.  All 
114 


WHEN  ALL  IS  FAIR 


day  she  had  glowed  with  the  thought  of  his 
sympathy  and  he  had  commented  upon  her 
red  eyes  and  lack  of  charm ! 

But  perhaps  —  perhaps  after  marriage 
he  would  not  care  if  at  times  she  had  her 
graver  moments;  he  would  learn  to  re- 
spond and  they  would  have  their  times  of 
serious  communion  together.  And  if 
shadows  fell  he  would  be  there  to  comfort 
her,  as  she  would  comfort  and  sustain  him 
always. 

But  his  eyes  rose  before  her,  cold  and 
annoyed,  and  she  knew  with  compelling 
certainty  that  he  could  never  be  a  sustain- 
ing presence  to  her;  his  very  nature  pre- 
cluded that  possibility. 

Yet,  now  she  thrilled  at  the  memory  of 
him  as  a  perfect  lover.  Again  she  felt 
the  fascination  of  his  debonair  personality, 
and  recalled  the  flashes  of  humor  with 
which  he  dismissed  anything  serious  that 
threatened  to  disturb  his  natural  atmos- 
phere. 

115 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


The  voices  in  the  dining-room  now  rose 
in  merry  discussion  and  Lucilla  heard 
amidst  the  laughter  her  mother's  gentle 
tones.  She  knew  by  heart  the  responsive 
look  that  glowed  in  her  father's  eyes. 
And  strangely  now  a  chord  of  memory 
vibrated,  bringing  a  vision  of  her  mother, 
years  before,  emaciated  and  with  shorn 
head,  gazing  at  her  husband  while  he  whis- 
pered that  she  still  was  fair  as  a  rose. 

And  Bracefield,  thought  Lucilla  with  a 
half  sob,  had  regarded  her  with  disillu- 
sioned eyes  when  after  she  had  been  ill  all 
day  he  asked  why  she  had  not  curled  her 
hair,  utterly  blind  to  her  physical  weakness. 

Wearily  now  she  rose  and  went  again 
into  the  hall,  intending  to  seek  her  own 
room.  As  her  foot  touched  the  lower 
steps,  the  dining-room  door  opened  and  her 
father  came  forward.  He  saw  her,  and  a 
tender  smile  parted  his  lips.  So  always  he 
greeted  his  children  with  a  smile  and  an 
116 


WHEN  ALL  IS  FAIR 


understanding  word  that  made  them  wor- 
ship him. 

He  came  softly  to  her. 

"Going  upstairs  so  early,  Daughter?" 
he  asked,  and  refrained  at  sight  of  her 
pain-filled  eyes  from  asking  any  further 
questions. 

She  searched  his  face.  "  Did  you  love 
Mother,"  she  asked,  wholly  irrelevant; 
"  did  you  always  love  her  when  she  was 
not  all  vivacity  and  sparkle?  " 

The  question  stirred  him,  and  the  words 
came  hurriedly  to  his  lips: — "Your 
mother,  Lucilla,  is  your  mother  —  I 
have  never  known  her  to  be  less  than 
beautiful;  she  has  a  charm  in  every 
mood  — " 

"  Oh,  Father,  I  know  —  I  know,"  she 
cried;  then  suddenly  creeping  into  his  ex- 
tended arms,  she  said:  "Just  hold  me 
tight,  Father,  just  for  a  moment." 

He  strained  her  to  him,  while  his  heart 
leaped  within  him  at  sight  of  her  distress. 
117 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


Je 

s&X. 


After  a  moment  she  drew  away  from 
him,  then  kissing  him  softly,  she  went  on 
up  the  stairs  to  her  own  room. 

Later  her  brother  passing  her  door, 
paused  for  a  moment. 

"Asleep,  Sis?"  he  asked,  softly. 

She  opened  the  door  quickly.  "  No," 
she  smiled  at  him,  but  her  lips  trembled 
slightly.  '  Would  you  mind  mailing  this 
letter  for  me,  Bobby?  "  she  asked. 

"  Of  course,"  he  replied,  promptly,  tak- 
ing the  envelope  from  her  hand.  Then  he 
looked  closer  at  her.  "  Anything  wrong, 
Sis?  Feel  quite  well?  " 

"Nothing  wrong,  Bobby,"  she  replied; 
"  Good-night,  dear." 

She  closed  the  door  and  went  to  the  win- 
dow. "  It  will  not  distress  him  greatly," 
she  whispered;  "  and  I  should  wrong  him 
not  to  release  him  when  I  know  what  the 
future  would  mean  to  both." 

She  looked  up  into  the  sky  dark  and 
blurred,  but  when  the  mist  cleared  from 
118 


her  eyes  there  was  a  star  she  had  not  seen 
before. 


119 


MOONLIGH   '  AND  ROSES 


MOONLIGHT   AND    ROSES 


T 


I  HE  horse  stopped 
Estelle's  door,  and 


knowingly  before 
for  a  moment  be- 
fore alighting  from  the  buggy  the  girl 
gazed  into  the  moonlit  garden  of  her 
father's  home.  Never  before  had  it 
seemed  so  fair  to  her,  and  the  man  on  the 
ground  waiting  to  help  her  seemed  also 
to  be  touched  with  the  romantic  mysticism 
of  the  summer  night. 

At  the  contact  of  his  hand  she  felt  a 
sudden  rush  of  blinding  emotion,  and  she 
gazed  up  into  the  strong,  manly  face, 
which  she  could  see  quite  plainly  in  the 
brilliant  moonlight.  For  a  moment  they 
stood  silent,  his  hand  still  lightly  holding 
hers;  then  Estelle  felt  her  heart  leap  with 
a  new  joy  as  he  tenderly  said  to  her: 
"  Estelle,  I  love  you." 

121 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


He  drew  her  to  him,  and  yielding  to  the 
wholly  sweet  impulse  she  found  herself  in 
his  arms  and  felt  his  kisses  falling  upon 
her  flushed  cheek. 

When  she  could  speak  her  words  came 
shyly:  "  I  never  dreamed  that  you  should 
love  me,  Leonard  —  or  —  or  that  I 
cared." 

He  did  not  answer,  but  gazed  at  her  as 
upon  a  dream  suddenly  changed  to  won- 
derful reality.  Then  they  turned  together 
and  went  down  the  garden  path,  his  arm 
still  about  her  —  his  face  transfigured  with 
the  light  of  his  new-found  happiness. 

At  the  door  they  paused,  and  he  bent  his 
head  till  he  could  catch  her  low  words : 

"  Why,  only  an  hour  ago  I  stood  here 
waiting  for  you,"  she  murmured;  "the 
night  was  so  still  and  beautiful  that  it 
seemed  something*  wonderful  must  come  to 
me.  And  yet  I  didn't  think  of  you, 
Leonard." 

He  smiled  at  her.     "  We  never  know 
122 


MOONLIGHT  AND  ROSES 


when  friendship  merges  into  love,"  he  told 
her. 

"  But  " —  she  breathed  quickly — "  how 
soon  we  learn ;  I  love  you  now,  and  a  while 
ago  I  knew  nothing  of  love  nor  dreamed 
that  such  a  wonderful  thing  could  happen 
to  me." 

He  drew  her  to  him  again,  and  then 
with  a  little  sigh  she  turned  away. 
"  Good-night,  now,  Leonard,"  she  said 
softly;  "good-night  and  happy  dreams." 

She  watched  him  go  down  the  moonlit 
path ;  he  seemed  unreal  to  her  —  a  stran- 
ger. But  the  smile  still  lingered  on  her 
lips  as  she  opened  the  door  and  went 
quietly  into  the  house. 

Her  sister-in-law,  Margaret,  opened  the 
door  of  her  bedroom  and  listened  to  the 
girl's  light  approach. 

"  Why,  Estelle !  "  she  exclaimed,  as  she 

saw    the    transfigured    face    of    the    girl 

radiant  with  a  light  she  had  never  before 

seen  there.     Then  as  Estelle  stood  quite 

123 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


near  to  her  she  put  her  arms  about  the 
slim  shoulders  and  drew  her  close  within 
her  loving  clasp. 

"Tell  me  —  what  has  happened?" 

"  The  most  wonderful  thing,"  Estelle 
replied  softly.  "  Leonard  and  I  love  each 
other." 

"You  and  Leonard!  "  responded  Mar- 
garet in  surprise.  "  Why,  I  had  not 
known  — " 

"  Nor  I,"  returned  Estelle  quickly. 
She  looked  up  into  the  strong,  calm  face: 
"  Does  it  always  come  that  way,  Margaret 
—  with  a  rush  —  with  the  touch  of  a 
hand—" 

"  Not  always,  dear,"  Margaret  an- 
swered. "  You  know,  Will  and  I  —  we 
waited — " 

"  I  know,  dear,"  Estelle  interrupted 
gently,  for  now  that  Margaret  was  alone 
after  two  years  of  marriage  and  living  in 
her  husband's  old  home  Estelle  had  learned 
to  love  her  deeply,  to  understand  in  part 
124 


.MOONLIGHT  AND  ROSES 


her  great  sorrow,  and  to  admire  the 
strength  of  character  which  sustained  her 
so  steadfastly  in  affliction. 

Margaret  for  a  moment  looked  away 
from  the  clear  young  eyes,  then,  stooping 
suddenly,  she  kissed  the  questioning  lips 
and  said  brightly: 

"  We  all  like  Leonard  —  your  father, 
grandmother  and  I.  We  had  not  sus- 
pected anything  deeper  than  friendship, 
but  now  I  suppose  we  must  make  up  our 
minds  to  lose  our  little  girl." 

The  words  rang  in  Estelle's  ears  with  a 
little  sad  echo  long  after  she  sought  her 
bed  and  lay  gazing  out  into  the  splendid 
world.  She  could  see  the  stars  in  their 
bed  of  blue,  and  the  shafts  of  silver  light 
that  the  moon  cast  down  filled  her  room 
with  soft  radiance;  and  soon  in  a  maze  of 
delight  at  the  loveliness  about  her  she  lost 
the  disquieting  thought  of  home-leaving. 

The  whole  night  had  been  one  of  luxury 
and  indulgence  in  dreams  that  merged  into 
125 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


reality  when  Leonard's  hand  touched  hers ; 
she  lived  the  moments  over  and  over  again 
until,  enraptured,  she  fell  asleep. 

The  month  of  June  with  its  roses  passed 
quickly,  and  Estelle  knew  many  hours  of 
joy.  But  in  her  quieter  moments  she 
turned  always  to  Margaret.  In  times  of 
reflection  she  seemed  to  find  in  her  even 
greater  understanding  than  in  Leonard,  for 
Margaret  always  responded  sympathetic- 
ally to  every  call  upon  her  love. 

"  What  shall  I  do  without  you  when  — 
when  I  go  away?"  Estelle  asked  her  one 
day. 

"  You  will  have  Leonard,"  Margaret 
told  her.  "  And  he  will  supply  everything 
—  companionship,  tenderness,  and  under- 
standing." 

Estelle  did  not  answer,  but  only  sought 
and  clung  to  Margaret's  hand.  "  Some- 
times," she  said,  answering  Margaret's 
puzzled  look  — "  sometimes  I  believe  I 
need  a  weight  of  some  kind  to  hold  me 
126 


MOONLIGHT  AND  ROSES 


down.  It  is  all  so  beautiful,  so  wonder- 
ful —  this  new  world." 

Margaret  was  silent,  looking  gravely 
into  Estelle's  glowing  eyes.  Then :  "  It 
is  wonderful,  Estelle,"  she  said;  "  and  you 
may  keep  it  so  all  your  life." 

"  Of  course,"  Estelle  said,  with  the  ut- 
most confidence;  "  I  intend  to  do  so." 

Margaret  smiled  at  the  tone.  '  You 
must  remember,  dear,"  she  said,  "  there  are 
a  few  duties  which  marriage  brings  that 
may  not  appear  romantic." 

But  Estelle  sprang  away  with  a  little  cry 
of  distaste :  "  I  don't  want  to  think  of 
anything  practical  now,  Margaret,"  she 
cried;  then  suddenly  her  eyes  widened. 
"  Why,"  she  went  on,  "  I  don't  even  want 
to  think  of  Leonard !  " 

Amazed  by   her  own   words,   the   girl 

gazed  wide-eyed  at  Margaret.     But  later, 

as   she   went   downstairs   and   out    into   a 

world  of  beauty,  she  forgot  her  momentary 

127 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


confu&ion  and  became  again  her  own  happy 
self. 

The  marriage  was  to  be  on  Christmas 
Day,  and  with  almost  incredible  rapidity 
the  months  flew  by  until  September  came 
with  her  rich,  golden  offerings. 

Estelle,  still  wrapped  in  the  wonders  of 
the  world  she  had  stumbled  upon  —  still, 
as  her  grandmother  expressed  it,  "  walking 
softly  on  clouds  " —  met  Leonard  one 
autumn  afternoon  on  his  way  to  her  home. 

"What's  the  matter,  Leonard?"  the 
girl  asked.  "  You  look  strange." 

"  Nothing,"  he  answered,  and  at  sight 
of  her  his  face  cleared;  "  I  want  to  take  a 
long  walk  this  afternoon,  so  I  left  the  office 
early.  I  was  going  to  call  for  you.  Do 
you  care  to  accompany  me?  " 

She  nodded,  and  they  fell  into  step  to- 
gether. "  Not  quite  so  fast,  Leonard," 
she  cried  after  a  little  time;  "  I  'm  out  of 
breath  now." 

He  slackened  his  pace,  and  in  silence 
128 


MOONLIGHT  AND  ROSES 


they  went  on.  Soon  they  left  the  town  and 
came  to  a  long  road  leading  into  the  coun- 
try. 

"Where  are  we  going?  "  asked  Estelle. 

"  Why  —  why  — "  He  stopped  for  a 
moment  to  look  at  her  with  eyes  wide  and 
somber.  "  Estelle,  I  want  to  stop  at  the 
parsonage  on  the  south  road,  where  you 
and  I  can  be  married." 

Estelle  gasped  in  amazement.  "  Leon- 
ard !  "  she  exclaimed  when  she  could  speak. 
"  I  don't  understand." 

"  There  is  nothing  to  understand,"  he 
said;  "simply,  Estelle,  that  I  want  you  to 
marry  me  now.  There  is  no  use  waiting 
until  Christmas." 

"  But  I  don't  want  to  be  married  now," 
said  Estelle.  She  looked  up  at  him  with 
a  smile.  "  Does  the  time  seem  long  until 
Christmas?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  said.  The  word  was  a  mur- 
mur, but  Estelle  heard  it.  They  had  re- 
sumed their  walk,  and  Estelle,  with  little 
129 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


panting  sighs,  tried  to  keep  pace  with  Leon- 
ard's longer  steps.  Finally  she  stopped, 
her  breath  coming  quickly. 

"  I  think  I  shall  have  to  rest,  Leonard," 
she  said;  "I  cannot  walk  so  fast.  I'm 
tired." 

In  a  moment  he  was  filled  with  contri- 
tion. "  Sit  here,  Estelle,"  he  said,  draw- 
ing her  to  one  side  of  the  road  where  a 
fallen  tree  lay.  He  seated  himself  beside 
her. 

"Can't  you  trust  me,  little  girl?"  he 
said,  taking  her  hand  in  his  and  speaking 
very  earnestly;  "  I  think  it  best  that  we 
should  marry  now." 

Estelle  was  silent  for  a  moment.  Then 
her  words  came  very  low,  but  very  secure. 
"  I  could  not  think  of  it,  Leonard.  I 
should  be  quite  willing  to  wait  until  Easter, 
or  Christmas  after  next.  I  am  quite  con- 
tent." 

He  regarded  her  strangely   for  a  mo- 
130 


MOONLIGHT  AND  ROSES 


She  grew  a  little  pale.  "  Thank  you, 
yes,"  she  replied.  "  Shall  we  return?  " 

He  nodded,  and  they  traversed  the  same 
road  again.  Once  or  twice  his  swinging 
arm  touched  hers,  but  no  stirring,  delight- 
ful emotion  filled  her  at  the  contact. 

When  they  reached  her  home  she  paused 
and  looked  up  at  him.  "  I  don't  under- 
stand things  at  all,  Leonard,"  she  said 
gently.  "  Perhaps,  when  you  come  to- 
night, you  will  explain  ?  " 

But  he  did  not  answer,  only  looked  at 
her  with  eyes  strangely  yearning,  an  ex- 
pression that  touched  the  girl  with  pity, 
and  so  she  left  him. 

Margaret  stood  arranging  linen  in  the 
old  chest.  She  looked  up  and  smiled  as 
Estelle  came  toward  her,  pausing  for  a  mo- 
ment to  watch  the  work. 

"  Margaret,"  said  Estelle  at  last,   "  if 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


Mother  were  only  alive  —  that  I  could  go 
to  her  and  tell  her  all !  " 

Before  Margaret  could  answer  Estelle 
walked  on  into  the  little  den  her  brother 
had  furnished  before  his  marriage  to  Mar- 
garet. She  looked  about  the  familiar 
room,  with  its  many  pictures  and  gaudy 
draperies,  with  a  feeling  of  strangeness, 
so  greatly  had  she  herself  changed. 

And  so  this  was  love  —  this  strange  un- 
happiness  that  filled  her  !  She  recalled  the 
night  she  had  given  her  heart  into  Leon- 
ard's keeping.  How  happy  then  she  had 
been,  and  how  filled  with  excitement  all  her 
days  had  been  since  that  time.  She  went 
on  from  incident  to  incident  marking  her 
engagement,  but  it  was  an  hour  later, 
when  Margaret  sought  her  and  the  girl 
felt  her  loving  arms  about  her,  that  she 
quite  understood. 

"  Margaret,"  she  said  then,  "  Leonard 
does  not  love  me,  and  I  do  not  love  him." 

Margaret  did  not  answer  in  words  but 
132 


MOONLIGHT  AND  ROSES 


lovingly  drew  the  trembling  figure  closer 
in  her  embrace. 

"  He  wanted  me  to  marry  him  this  after- 
noon, and  I  believe  now  I  know  why," 
said  Estelle.  "Margaret!"  she  sat  up 
quickly.  "  Suppose  I  had  married  him ! 
You  know,  I  never  really  thought  of  mar- 
riage. It  seemed  to  me  that  things  could 
go  on  just  as  they  had  been  ever  since  we 
were  engaged." 

"  Yes,  dear,  I  understand,"  whispered 
Margaret.  "  You  thought  only  of  the 
things  of  love." 

"  Yes,  just  of  the  romance,"  said  Es- 
telle; "and  I  believe  I  thought  more  of 
the  fact  that  Leonard  could  play  the  piano 
and  that  I  could  sing  to  his  accompaniment 
than  anything  else.  And  yet — " 

"  Yes,  dear." 

"  It  seemed  so   real,   Margaret  —  that 
night  out  there  in  the  moonlight,  and  now 
I  know  it  was  but  a  moment  of  glamour, 
i33 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


and  we  both  wrongly  thought  our  emotion 
love." 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Margaret  hopefully  — 
"  perhaps,  after  all,  you  are  mistaken." 

Estelle  looked  at  her  with  a  little  re- 
proach in  her  gaze.  "  You  know  better 
than  that,  dear,"  she  said.  "  Why,  I  have 
never  thought  of  Leonard  as  part  of  mar- 
riage." She  smiled  whimsically.  "  I  have 
thought  always  of  love  and  happiness,  but 
never  of  Leonard." 

"  And  yet  he  wanted  to  marry  you  to- 
day," said  Margaret. 

"  Yes,  for  he  also  understands  now,  but 
he  believes  he  must  be  honorable  at  any 
cost,  and  he  wanted  to  bind  himself  quickly, 
thinking  the  rest  would  adjust  itself.  But 
I  know  now  there  could  be  no  adjustment, 
and  that  honor  does  n't  demand  the  fulfill- 
ment of  mistaken  vows." 

"  I  'm  glad,  Estelle,  that  that  knowledge 
came  now  instead  of  after." 

"  So  am  I,"  said  Estelle.  She  touched 
134 


MOONLIGHT  AND  ROSES 


Margaret's  face  lightly.  "  Fancy  having 
a  husband  who  really  should  be  only  a 
friend!" 

But  beneath  her  banter  Estelle  felt  a 
hurt,  and  wondered  if  within  her  there  was 
something  that  failed  of  appeal  and  re- 
sponse. But  courageously  she  faced  the 
situation,  strengthened  by  her  knowledge 
that  love  was  the  great  and  absolute  essen- 
tial, and  that  no  counterfeit  emotion  would 
serve  in  its  place  to  sustain  and  uplift;  no 
counterfeit  emotion  but  would  be  over- 
strained and  inadequate  in  vivid  moments 
of  life,  whether  full  of  joy  or  weighted 
with  sorrow. 

When,  later,  she  found  Leonard  wait- 
ing for  her  in  the  dining-room,  from  which 
her  grandmother  and  father  had  made  dis- 
creet exit,  she  went  swiftly  to  him. 

"  I  understand  quite  well,  Leonard,"  she 

began,  and  as  he  rose  quickly  and  stood 

before   her  she   continued:     "I    have   no 

blame  for  you,  no  more  than  you  reserve 

135 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


"Estelle— "  he  cried,  but  s 
quickly. 

"  That  is  why  you  wanted  t 
today,"  she  said,  "  is  it  not?  " 

He  spoke  now  with  the  light  of  courage 
in  his  face. 

"  You  are  right,  Estelle,"  he  said.  "  I 
had  the  truth  forced  on  me  one  day  a  few 
weeks  ago  —  oh,  no,  there  is  no  one  else  " 
—  in  answer  to  her  questioning  eyes  — 
"  but  suddenly  I  knew  absolutely  that  it 
was  not  love  I  bore  you  —  only  the  deep- 
est, most  sincere  friendship.  I  bitterly 
scorned  myself,  as  you  may  know  — " 

"  There  was  no  need  for  that,"  she  said 
gently.  "  I  think  many  a  man  and  woman 
mistake  the  glamour  of  the  moment  for 
the  reality  of  love.  You  must  not  think 
harshly  of  yourself." 

He   took   her   hands   gently   within   his 
own.     "  You  are  the  best  woman  I  know, 
136 


MOONLIGHT  AND  ROSES 


Estelle,"  he  said;  "  and  I  believe  that  if 
we  were  married  at  once  everything  would 
eventually  be  right." 

"  I  think  not,"  she  said  decisively. 
"  No  marriage  can  be  entirely  happy  where 
love  is  not  a  factor  in  it.  Why,  see  how 
learned  I  am,  Leonard !  I  never  stopped 
to  think  before." 

"  You  are  the  dearest  — " 

She  silenced  him  with  a  little  gesture. 
"  Shall  we  be  friends  ?  "  she  asked.  "  And 
shall  we  make  a  compact?  " 

"  Anything  you  like,"  he  said  eagerly. 

"  Let  us  be  quite  sure  the  next  time,"  she 
said  laughingly.  Then  at  once  she  became 
grave.  "  We  should  be  glad  that  we 
found  out  the  truth  before  it  was  too  late," 
she  said.  "  A  lifetime  of  real  unhappiness 
or  passive  endurance  would  have  been  ours 
according  to  our  natures.  And  all  because 
the  moon  shone  one  beautiful  summer 
night." 

And  very  reverently  he  kissed  her  hand. 
137 


QUALITIES  OF  LOVE 


QUALITIES    OF    LOVE 

IT  seemed  to  Virginia  that  never  had 
there  been  a  more  prosaic  courtship 
than  hers.  True,  she  told  herself  rather 
bitterly,  that  when  a  woman  has  reached 
the  age  of  thirty-three  she  must  not  expect 
to  live  a  startling  romance. 

Within  the  last  few  years  she  had  grown 
tired  of  life  passed  entirely  alone  —  life 
that  seemed  dull  and  commonplace  beside 
the  full  lives  of  those  about  her.  There 
had  been  a  time  when  work,  ambition  and 
the  care  of  others  had  drowned  every  other 
thought  and  she  had  believed  herself  con- 
tent. But  when  first  she  knew  David 
Stirling  she  had  admired  his  quiet  strength, 
his  uniform  courtesy,  and  in  time  she  came 
to  depend  upon  him.  And  when  very 
139 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


quietly   he   asked   her   to   marry   him   she 
consented. 

The  thought  of  his  home  awaiting  her 
and  his  one  child,  a  little  girl  of  eight, 
brought  to  her  a  feeling  of  absolute  con- 
tent. She  had  not  known  how  tired  she 
was  until  rest  was  offered  to  her. 

"  I  wonder  if  you  will  term  me  impa- 
tient," Stirling  asked  her  one  night,  "  if 
I  should  desire  our  marriage  to  take  place 
very  soon?  " 

She  smiled  at  him,  a  smile  which  made 
her  face  lovely  and  very  youthful.  "  Im- 
patient? "  she  said.  "  Were  you  ever  im- 
patient? " 

'  You  hide  an  innuendo  there?  "  he  said, 
returning  her  smile.  "  I  am  not  so  very 
aged." 

"Forty,"  she  responded  quickly;  "you 
were  very  careful  to  tell  me  everything  a 
few  weeks  ago." 

"Of  course,"  he  answered;  "was  that 
not  right?  " 

140 


QUALITIES  OF  LOVE 


"  Oh,  yes,"  she  said  quickly,  subduing 
a  thought  that  she  would  have  been  satis- 
fied with  the  reiteration  that  he  loved  her 
and  asked  nothing  of  dry  facts.  "  I  think 
I  can  be  ready  to  marry  you  in  three 
months,"  she  told  him  then. 

"  Very  well,"  he  answered  gravely. 
"  I  have  not  told  Loretta  yet  of  our  im- 
pending marriage." 

Virginia  gazed  in  a  little  fear  at  him. 
"  Do  you  think  she  will  welcome  the 
thought?  "  she  asked. 

"  She  will  become  accustomed  to  it,"  he 
said.  "  She  does  not  remember  her  moth- 
er, but  I  have  told  her  a  great  deal  about 
her  and  she  tenderly  cherishes  her  memory. 
Loretta  is  very  dear  to  me,  and  I  think 
you  will  learn  to  love  her." 

"  How  old  is  she?  —  I  have  forgotten," 
Virginia  spoke  in  some  confusion. 

But  Stirling  did  not  notice  her  embar- 
rassment.     "  Her  mother  died  when   she 
141 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


was  three  months  old,"  he  replied.  "  Lor- 
etta  is  now  eight." 

Virginia  was  silent  then,  and  when  Stir- 
ling had  gone  she  still  remained  thinking. 
Once  she  gazed  around  the  room,  a  faint 
distaste  filling  her  for  what  she  felt  it 
lacked.  It  was  a  boarding-house  parlor, 
containing  the  usual  array  of  furniture  de- 
signed for  utility.  It  was  beautifully 
clean  and  everything  was  in  perfect  order, 
but  Virginia  endured  a  sense  of  over- 
whelming loneliness,  as  often  she  had,  be- 
fore she  promised  to  marry  Stirling. 

Early  the  next  morning,  before  she  left 
for  the  office  where  she  spent  her  days,  a 
dainty  box  of  flowers  came  from  Stirling. 
As  a  breath  of  fragrance  reached  her,  a' 
warm  flush  overspread  her  face.  It  was 
good  to  be  cared  for,  and  he  knew  that 
the  perfume  of  his  roses  would  lighten  her 
working  hours. 

Another  month  passed  rapidly,  bringing 
the  wedding  day  nearer.  And  when  Vir- 
142 


QUALITIES  OF  LOVE 


ginia  was  not  with  Stirling  in  the  evening 
she  sewed  the  dainty  things  with  which  she 
was  replenishing  her  wardrobe.  And 
sometimes  she  hummed  a  little  song.  But 
beneath  all  she  felt  a  vague  questioning 
that  stirred  her  uncomfortably. 

One  Sunday  morning  she  walked  with 
Stirling  through  the  lovely  spring  park. 
She  felt  a  warmth  in  her  blood,  a  tingling 
of  her  veins  that  responded  to  the  beauty 
of  all  Nature.  She  was  young  and  glow- 
ing with  life  —  and  living  her  romance  for 
the  first  time,  she  told  herself  shyly. 

Then  she  looked  at  Stirling  —  at  his 
strong,  impassive  face  —  and  a  cold  hand 
clutched  her  heart.  He  seemed  so  con- 
tent, immovable.  She  spoke  quickly: 

"  It 's  rather  great  to  be  alive,  is  n't  it?  " 

She  had  not  meant  to  say  just  that,  but 
now  she  looked  up  eagerly  into  his  face, 
awaiting  his  answer.  He  did  not  speak  at 
once.  Then  he  said  evenly: 

"  Yes;  I  am  fond  of  the  spring." 
143 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


Virginia  said  nothing  more.  They  re- 
traced their  steps,  returning  by  way  of  his 
home,  an  imposing  house  that  stood  near 
the  entrance  to  the  park. 

"  Come  in  for  a  moment,  Virginia,"  he 
urged;  "  my  sister  and  Loretta  will  be  glad 
to  see  you."  He  hesitated  for  a  moment. 
"  Loretta  is  very  quaint;  I  think  she  will 
amuse  you  in  a  way,"  he  finished  rather 
proudly. 

Virginia  answered  hurriedly.  "  No," 
she  said  with  finality;  "  I  want  to  go  home 
now." 

"  Home !  "  he  repeated,  looking  at  her 
smilingly;  "to  that  little  room  which  you 
say  looks  out  on  a  whitewashed  court.  I 
shall  be  glad  when  you  leave  it  for  good, 
Virginia." 

"Oh,  shall  you,  David?"  Her  ques- 
tion was  a  prayer,  a  cry  for  something  she 
had  missed. 

"Yes,"  he  answered;  "I  don't  think  a 
woman  should  be  alone  in  that  way." 
144 


QUALITIES  OF  LOVE 


The  girl's  heart  sank  at  his  level  tones. 
"  Don't  come  back  with  me,"  she  said  as 
he  made  a  move  to  accompany  her;  "  I  'd 
rather  go  on  alone." 

Before  he  could  reply  she  had  left  him, 
her  tall  figure  in  a  moment  quite  lost  to 
his  strained  vision. 

Virginia  hastened  on  to  her  own  little 
room.  Arrived  there,  she  went  quickly 
to  the  window,  which  the  maid  had  closed 
and  locked  in  her  absence,  and  threw  it 
open,  drinking  in  the  warm  spring  air. 
But  in  a  moment  she  flung  herself  down  in 
a  miserable  heap  upon  the  lounge. 

The  lonely  moments  that  she  had  en- 
dured here  came  back  and  pressed  upon 
her;  but  those  memories  seemed  to  come 
in  the  form  of  temptation,  and  she  thrust 
them  from  her.  For  now  she  quite 
yielded  to  the  half-formed  thought  she  had 
had  for  weeks.  Stirling  gave  her  only  a 
lukewarm  affection,  and  she  must  put  from 
H5 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


her  the  longing  for  a  real  home  and  the 
things  of  women. 

At  this  decision  she  rebuked  herself 
mercilessly;  she  held  up  to  herself  the 
dancing  figures  of  her  age.  She  was 
thirty-three,  and  yet  could  not  be  satisfied 
with  the  respect  and  the  name  that  the  man 
had  offered  to  her.  She  felt  within  her 
the  deep  desire  for  romance  —  stirring, 
wonderful  romance. 

And  she  was  jealous!  She  spared  her- 
self nothing  now.  Jealous  of  the  mother 
of  his  child.  ,Not,  she  redeemed  herself 
in  part,  jealous  in  the  ordinary  way,  but 
jealous  that  she  could  have  only  a  measure 
of  his  liking.  For  of  love  he  could  not 
give  her,  since  he  could  not  be  unfaithful 
to  the  memory  of  the  woman  he  had  first 
married. 

She  looked  about  the  little  room,  with 

its  pitiful  makeshifts  —  its  masquerading 

lounge,  its  screen  that  divulged  rather  than 

hid  —  and   she   shuddered  with   the    fear 

146 


gLALITlES  OF  LOVE 


that  for  long  years  she  must  still  endure  it 
all.  It  would  be  harder  for  her  now, 
since  she  had  believed  a  real  home  was 
soon  to  be  hers ;  when  she  had  thought  her- 
self quite  content  with  the  strength  and 
reliance  Stirling  offered  her.  She  had  pon- 
dered, too,  with  a  little  timid  joy  on  Lor- 
etta,  who,  perhaps,  in  her  childish  fashion 
resented  the  intrusion  of  a  stranger. 

Finally  she  rose  and  went  to  the  small 
box  behind  the  screen,  where  lovingly  she 
had  folded  the  articles  she  was  working 
upon.  She  lifted  a  lace  negligee,  into 
whose  dainty  folds  she  had  sewed  many  a 
thought  of  her  bright  future  —  with  him. 

But  quickly  she  replaced  the  garment, 
as  another  temptation  that  leaped  at  her. 
She  would  not  succumb,  for  eventually  she 
would  be  miserable  trying  gracefully  to 
accept  the  husks  he  offered  her;  and  what, 
she  asked  herself  —  what  meant  the  bare 
house  that  he  called  home,  if  he  placed 
her  therein  simply  as  one  to  serve  his  com- 
H7 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


fort ;  where  ever  the  memory  of  the  woman 
he  had  truly  loved  must  linger,  and  perhaps 
upbraid  him  with  wide,  reproachful  dream 
eyes? 

And  so,  with  such  thoughts  for  company, 
Virginia  passed  the  day  till,  when  Stirling 
came  in  the  evening,  she  had  quite  resolved 
what  course  to  take.  Though  she  felt  a 
hatred  of  her  task  she  began  hurriedly  to 
tell  him  her  decision. 

He  listened  —  quite  unmoved,  she  told 
herself.  And  when  she  had  finished  he 
spoke  as  calmly  as  she  had  expected : 

"  You  doubt  my  love  —  is  that  it,  Vir- 
ginia? " 

"  Not  the  quality  of  your  regard,"  she 
evaded,  for  she  could  not  tell  him  all  her 
thoughts.  "  I  think  you  are  sincere,  but, 
you  see,  I  am  not  content  with  what  you 
can  give  me." 

"  Have  n't  I  made  you  understand  that 
I  care  for  you?  "  he  persisted  then. 

"  There  's  no  use  talking  about  it,  is 
148 


QUALITIES  OF  LOVE 


there?"  she  asked  gently,  and  he  sensed 
a  certain  finality  in  her  tones  that  kept  him 
silent. 

She  found  herself  alone  shortly  after, 
with  a  bewildered  throbbing  of  her  heart, 
and  a  bitter  remembrance  that  he  had  taken 
her  decision  in  a  remarkably  untouched 
way.  And  she  raged  at  herself  that 
despite  his  apparent  indifference  she  cared 
for  him.  She  had  not  known  how  much 
till  all  was  at  an  end  between  them. 

She  recalled  soon  his  grave  mouth  and 
tender  eyes ;  yet  they  were  not  tender  for 
her,  but  for  her  womanhood.  And  the 
best  he  had  given  to  the  first;  and  that  was 
as  it  should  be,  Virginia  repeated  wearily ; 
only,  only,  she  wanted  to  reign  in  some 
heart  where  love  and  great  tenderness 
should  be  hers  —  not  a  kind  regard  which 
in  its  way  would  always  shield  her,  but 
which  was  but  a  counterfeit,  after  all,  and 
entirely  unsatisfying. 

She  went  about  her  duties  till,  utterly 
149 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


worn  out,  she  sent  word  to  the  office  one 
day  that  she  would  remain  at  home.  She 
settled  herself  in  her  room  in  an  attitude  of 
listlessness,  not  knowing  just  how  she 
would  spend  her  time;  she  tried,  after  some 
time,  to  read;  then,  finding  no  power  of 
concentration,  she  yielded  to  her  depres- 
sion. 

It  was  nearly  noon  when  she  answered 
a  timid  knock  at  her  door.  Mary,  the 
servant,  stood  smiling  and  behind  her  was 
a  little  girl. 

"  To  see  you,  Miss  Stanton,"  said  Mary, 
and  pushed  the  child  into  the  room  with  a 
gentle  hand. 

For  a  moment  Virginia  gazed  at  the 
small  visitor;  then  she  knew  that  this  must 
be  Stirling's  child. 

"You  are  Loretta?"  she  said  finally, 
and  at  the  little  one's  nod  Virginia  took 
her  hand. 

"  Did  you  come  to  visit  me?  "  she  said 
150 


QUALITIES  OF  LOVE 


softly,  as  she  removed  the  white  hat  and 
slipped  off  the  long  coat. 

"Yes,"  the  child  answered;  then,  gain- 
ing some  confidence  though  her  eyes  were 
big  and  shy,  she  went  on :  "  Father  said 
you  were  at  home  alone ;  and  when  he  's 
alone  I  comfort  him.  So  he  sent  me  to 
you." 

So  Stirling  knew  that  she  had  remained 
at  home.  He  was  thoughtful  and  watch- 
ful even  yet  of  her.  Virginia  sank  into  a 
chair  and  drew  the  little  one  close  to  her. 

"I'm  very  glad  you  came  to  visit  me," 
she  said.  "  I  have  often  wanted  to  see 
you." 

The  child  did  not  reply,  but  smoothed 
her  curls  with  an  efficient  hand. 

"  Betty  was  very  cross  this  morning,"  she 
said;  "  so  I  did  my  own  hair.  When  she 
is  cross  she  pulls.  And  Auntie  is  away 
visiting;  she  nearly  always  is,  though." 

A  chord  vibrated  in  Virginia's  heart  at 
the  child's  innocent  revelations,  and  stoop- 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


ing,  she  kissed  the  sweet  face  while  the 
tears  filled  her  eyes. 

Then  a  thought  came  to  her:  here, 
surely,  she  was  needed.  But  while  it  was  a 
stimulating  thought  it  carried  no  real  hap- 
piness. She  did  not  want  alone  to  be 
needed ;  she  craved  love. 

"  Father  told  me  about  you,"  said  the 
child,  now  leaning  confidently  against  Vir- 
ginia, "  and  I  like  you." 

Virginia  did  not  answer  at  once.  "  I  'm 
so  glad,"  she  said;  then,  as  the  soft  body 
nestled  against  her,  a  yearning  rose  within 
her  to  hold  it  in  her  arms. 

"  Are  you  too  big  a  girl  to  sit  on  my 
knee?  "  she  asked. 

"  Well,  at  night,  when  Father  wants 
me  to,  I  sit  on  his  knee,"  Loretta  answered; 
"  but  then,  Father  and  I  are  chums.  You 
know,  I  have  no  one  but  Father,"  she  con- 
cluded. 

Virginia,  with  a  little  cry,  lifted  the 
child  to  her  knee,  and  in  a  moment  the 
152 


QUALITIES  OF  LOVE 


small  arms  were  about  her  neck,  the  tender 
face  lay  against  hers,  and  she  felt  a  tide 
of  pure  joy  rise  within  her. 

"  Father  said,"  Loretta  went  on,  "  that 
perhaps  you  were  coming  to  live  with  us; 
he  said  that  before,  but  now  he  just  sits 
and  holds  me  tight.  Have  you  done  any- 
thing to  him?  " 

"  No,"  Virginia  murmured,  and  with  the 
child  in  her  arms  she  seemed  suddenly  to 
be  given  a  clearer  vision.  "  But  did  you 
want  me  to  come?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Loretta.  "  I  want  every- 
thing that  Father  wants.  He  told  me  I 
must  love  you  because  he  did;  and  I  told 
him  that  I  would  give  you  a  name." 

"  What  name,  dearest?  " 

"  Othermother,"  said  the  little  one  in  her 
gentle  voice. 

For  a  moment  Virginia  turned  away  her 
head;  then  she  said  in  a  low  voice: 

"And  Father  —  what  did  he  say?" 

"  He  only  held  me  close,"  Loretta  re- 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


plied,  "  just  as  you  are  doing  now.  Do 
you,  too,  like  that  name?  " 

"  Very,  very  much,"  whispered  Vir- 
ginia ;  then,  in  a  flame  of  understanding 
she  closed  her  eyes.  She  had  not  fathomed 
the  nature  of  his  love. 

"  Father  did  n't  go  to  the  office  today," 
the  little  informer  went  on;  "  he  's  in  the 
park  on  our  bench  —  that 's  where  we  al- 
ways sit,  you  know.  I  'm  going  to  him 
now.  Will  you  come,  too?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Virginia ;  "  you  and  I  will 
go  together." 

In  a  short  time  they  were  walking  toward 
the  park,  the  small  hand  clinging  tight  to 
Virginia's.  Virginia's  heart  was  big  with 
gratitude,  for  in  the  light  of  a  little  child's 
unquestioning  faith  she  had  found  peace. 

She  felt  a  tender  love  that  reached  be- 
yond the  grave  and  touched  Loretta's 
mother.  She  knew  that  always  she  would 
keep  green  that  beloved  memory  in  the 
little  one's  heart,  and  she  would  never  dis- 
154 


QUALITIES  OF  LOVE 


turb    Stirling's    reverence    for    the    young 
wife  who  had  left  him  years  before. 

For  she  knew  now  that  love  has  its  dif- 
ferent qualities,  and  that  Stirling's  tender 
memory  of  his  wife  took  nothing  from  the 
worth  of  his  present  offering.  So  all  her 
doubts  vanished  as  knowledge  came,  re- 
vealing the  truth  that  love  is  great  whether 
it  be  the  ardent,  romantic  emotion  of  youth 
or  the  tender  devotion  of  riper  years. 

As  they  entered  the  park  Virginia  saw 
Stirling  through  the  trees,  sitting  dejectedly 
on  the  bench.  Her  love  for  him  asserted 
itself  as  never  before,  and,  still  holding 
the  little  hand,  she  went  quickly  to  him. 
As  he  saw  her  he  rose,  then  stood  waiting 
for  her,  a  great  question  in  his  eyes. 

"  We  have  come,  David,"  she  said 
simply,  when  she  stood  quite  close,  and 
put  her  free  hand  into  his  quickly  out- 
stretched one. 

"Virginia!"  he  breathed;  and  looking 
155 


ENGAGED  GIRL  SKETCHES 


at  him  then  she  wondered  how  she  could 
ever  have  doubted  his  love. 

"What  a  beautiful  world!"  cried  the 
child,  looking  into  the  eyes  of  spring,  and 
the  hearts  of  her  listeners  fervently  re- 
sponded. 


156 


By  EMILY  CALVIN  BLAKE 


THE  SIX  GREAT  MOMENTS  IN  A 
WOMAN'S  LIFE 


A  sane,  wholesome  message  to  women  which  ap- 
peared serially  in  the  leading  woman's  magazine  and 
there  attracted  such  attention  that  there  has  been  a 
great  demand  for  its  appearance  in  book  form.  The 
kind  of  a  book  that  lives. 


Cloth,   12mo,  75  cents 


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